


Staying In Character

by sitabethel



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Lights, Christmas Movies, Citronshipping, Found Family, Happy Ending, Let's see if any of you have started reading the tags yet, M/M, Party Games, Thiefshipping, Train Ride, a few sad feels, a ton of happy feels, a touch of visionshipping, because tkb body, candy cane vibrator, fake boyfriends, for about two entire days before they're somehow real boyfriends?, friends - Freeform, or if you're all still distracted by the Ouija Board sex from Halloween, so many feels, sometimes everyone's dead and life sucks and you're sad and that's okay, ugly sweater party, yes i did have to tag that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21797503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sitabethel/pseuds/sitabethel
Summary: Since Malik hates his birthday, Isis convinces him to try Christmas one year, but misery loves company, so Malik lies and tells his sister that he's dating the Thief King in order to drag Bakura into the festivities with him.
Relationships: Thief King Bakura/Marik Ishtar
Comments: 132
Kudos: 89





	1. December 17

**Author's Note:**

> Instead of chapters, this got broken up into days, so I decided to post each day on the actual day (so today is December 17th in both my time and the fic)

“Bam! I win!” Bakura slammed his last card onto the field, cackling.

"You just spelled Anal, not Final." Malik glared at Bakura.

"I know which one I’d prefer." Bakura teased the ends of his white hair and purred.

Bakura had gotten used to Ryou’s length when Ryou had the Ring, so now that Bakura had his old body back—or a reasonable facsimile—Bakura had allowed his hair to grow to almost his waist. Every chance he could, he teased the long strands. _Especially_ when he was visiting Malik. He knew Malik loved staring at Bakura’s hair, even if he’d never admitted it.

"You still have nothing to block my attack. Therefore, I win." Malik scooped up his cards.

"Getting Anal is an instant win." Bakura winked and shot Malik with his fingers.

"Are we playing again, or are you going to show me how to spell boobs on a calculator like last week?"

"See, I know you feel bad about missing out on 'normal' things like 'real school' but that was probably the most intellectual thing Ryou learned while attending public education. You missed nothing by skipping the entire mess."

"Maybe so, but had a pesky spirit not been controlling Ryou’s body, perhaps he would have learned something more important."

"I highly doubt it. He would have used the extra time to doodle Monster World characters in his math book."

Before Malik could retort, his phone rang. Malik rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Excuse me."

"Tell Fortune Cookie I said hello." Bakura waved.

"Ha. Ha." Malik snorted before answering the phone and walking to his bedroom.

Bakura shuffled his cards and set up the next game, but as the minutes dragged on he realized it was going to be one of _those_ phone calls. Bakura wasn't usually one to give up, but since he was no longer immortal and, therefore, didn't have 3,000 more years to wait, he stood and peeked into Malik's room.

Malik chatted away the language which was neither the Egyptian Bakura grew up speaking, nor the Egyptian Arabic spoken in modern times, but rather a blend. Bakura caught words, but not enough to properly eavesdrop.

Malik turned and noticed Bakura standing in the doorway. He raised a finger in a 'one more moment' gesture. Bakura waved goodbye, letting Malik know he intended to leave.

Malik's eyes widened. He raised his hand motioning for Bakura to wait. Bakura narrowed his brows, pointed at the cell phone, and made a puppet with his hand going _bla bla bla_ to indicate they both knew Isis wasn't letting Malik off the phone any time soon. Still talking, Malik cradled the phone between his chin and shoulder and pressed his hands together in prayer.

Malik often ordered Bakura around, but he rarely said _please_ unless it was something important. Bakura groaned. _One day_! One day he’d learn to say “no” to Malik Ishtar, but instead of leaving, Bakura remembered he had one last pork chop fouling the sanctity of Malik’s refrigerator, so he wandered into the kitchen and held it in his teeth as he pulled himself onto the kitchen counter. Bakura’s legs dangled from the counter as he ate. Even after his snack, he sat in the kitchen, waiting for Malik.

“Bakura?” Malik stepped into the kitchen five minutes later.

“About time.” Bakura shot Malik an irritated look.

“Yeah, I know, I know.” Malik giggled.

Malik’s lilac eyes were as bright as was the rest of his complexion. Bakura would almost swear Malik was blushing—if he didn’t know better. Malik sat at the kitchen table, facing Bakura. He reached for a half forgotten cup of tea and swirled the spoon in a fidgety way. Bakura frowned.

“Did your sister say something to upset you?”

“She means well.” Malik sighed.

Giving up on the tea, Malik walked toward the counter. He pulled himself beside Bakura, sitting close enough for their arms to bump.

“You know my birthday’s next week, yeah?”

“Yup. Already marked it on my phone not to call or text you.” Bakura nodded. “I’ll be hanging out with Mai and Ryou like usual.”

He wasn’t one to give advice on letting go of the past, so he always respected Malik’s wishes to be left alone on his birthday, even though he knew—from experience—that it wasn’t the healthiest way to deal with the memories haunting him every year.

“So it took me a few years, but I finally convinced her no birthday talk, right? And she’s been good all this time about leaving me alone, but for some reason this year she decided that we needed to celebrate Christmas.”

“Christmas?” Bakura wrinkled his face.

“Yeah, like in the Western movies. She wants to come down and get a tree, and decorate, and bake cookies, and all that nonsense—but I know her. She thinks if my birthday is taboo, she’ll just overlay some other holiday in its place in hopes that I’ll forget about the initiation and have some fun.”

“So instead of celebrating your birth, she’s going to force you to celebrate the birth of a god you don’t even worship.” Bakura snorted.

“Even secular Christmas is going to stress me out.” Malik groaned and hid his face. “I just want to lay in bed and be left alone.”

“Put me on the phone. I’ll tell her you don’t want to do it, and I don’t care how pissed off she gets with me.”

“I promised her I’d try it _one year_. She said if I didn’t like it we wouldn’t do anything next year.”

“I still think you should tell her to jump in the Nile.”

“Um, so anyway...here’s why I’m telling you all this.” Malik checked his nails, making sure they were as clean and manicured as always. “Misery loves company, right?”

“I know I have white hair and a red robe, but I promise you I ain’t Sandy-Claws.” Bakura laughed.

“It’s my birthday, Bakura.” Malik gave him his saddest Namu eyes.

“Don’t give me that manipulative look.” Bakura scowled. “Oh fine, I’ll play buffer between you and your sister for a few days. Whatever.”

“See...it’s a little complicated because when I asked her if I could have friends over, she said no, that it was family only.”

“She can’t drag you into a holiday you don’t celebrate and then give you rules. Stand up to her, Malik.”

“Standing up to her is a 3 hour conversation I don’t want to have.” Malik hugged himself. “I know I need to keep healthy boundaries. I know. I have a therapist and boy are they going to earn their money this week. But dammit, Bakura, I feel shitty this time of year as it is. I should get to indulge in a little avoidance because it’s easier.”

“Yeah. Fine. Sure. Knock yourself out. She’s not my sister. But I don’t see how I’m going to play bodyguard for you if I’m not allowed in the room.”

“That’s why I lied and told her we were boyfriends,” Malik said.

If one could ever hear a record scratch during an opportune life moment, Bakura would be hearing one that very second. His thoughts crashed at the phrase, uttered so casually by Malik’s more-than-comfortable-with-lying mouth, that what he’d said hadn’t really sank into Bakura’s brain yet. Bakura slung an arm around Malik’s shoulders, pulled him a little closer, and spoke in a low voice.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear that. We’re what now?”

“Boyfriends?’ Malik turned his head so he could stare at Bakura while he spoke. They were so close their noses almost bumped together.

“Ha! What an upgrade! Not 20 minutes ago you denied me anal, and now you want to be my boyfriend!”

“I didn’t deny you anal!” Malik shouted. The bright highlight in his cheeks was _definitely_ a blush. “It’s not my fault you didn’t get an F and lost the game.”

“Well if we’re boyfriends and I’m not getting F’ed, it kinda is your fault.” Bakura grinned.

“I know it’s stupid!” Malik jumped from the counter, pacing. “This is stupid. I just...it’s like Battle City, right? It’s not as bad when you’re getting blasted by Ra with me. I just thought maybe some of this stupid garbage _would_ be kinda fun if you were behind me whispering stupid, sarcastic comments the entire time.”

“I am quite skilled with sarcastic comments.” Bakura winked.

“Oh gods, okay, maybe I panicked.” Malik dropped into the kitchen chair again, tugging at his hair. “Fuck. I’m a moron. Nevermind. We’re not doing this. I’ll call Isis and tell her it was a joke, and put up with all the Christmas nonsense myself. I mean, I survived getting carved up like Christmas turkey, dealing with some bullshit holiday should be easy.”

“Wait. Wait. Wait.” Bakura clucked his tongue in a teasing, disapproving manner. “I never said no.”

Bakura crouched beside Malik, gazing upward. He could tell Malik was stressed. From the way the muscles in his throat tensed, to the fidgeting, to the fact that Malik was slipping into old, “bad” habits like lying when he usually avoided anything which reminded him too much of who he was when he had the Rod. Bakura dragged his fingers through his white hair, trying to remember what he knew about Christmas from movies and a few of Ryou’s memories of when his mother was alive. Bakura shrugged.

“You know I can’t say no to you, no matter how dumb your plans are.”

“Nope. Nope. Nope. I regret my stupid plans.” Malik shook his head. “You couldn't even make a convincing Ryou when you wore his body. There’s no way you’re gonna be able to sip hot cocoa beside a fireplace and pretend you feel anything towards me except the unceasing urge to annoy the fuck out of me.”

“Hey. I’ll have you know I’ve very good at role playing.”

“Oh please.” Malik waved Bakura away.

“I’ll show you how great I am at playing boyfriend.”

Bakura slipped into Malik’s lap and coiled his arms around Malik’s neck. He leaned in close, hovering his lips barely out of reach. His motives had been facetious, but a real and terrible excitement twisted his guts as Malik’s breath washed over his lips. Bakura’s eyes fluttered shut. He hadn’t intended them too. The moment seized him. He felt himself snared and dragged closer to Malik. Their lips graced each other and lightning struck Bakura’s heart.

He gasped, breaking the kiss.

Malik blinked at him. His mouth hung open in shock.

Bakura pulled away and rubbed his face.

“It’s your birthday, afterall. What are partners in crime for, if not for trolling your family during the holidays?”

“You’ll really do this with me? Like fake the entire stupid thing so we can make snide comments to each other during the Christmas movies and ironically play footsies during Christmas dinner?” Malik smiled.

And holy shit did his smile do something to Bakura. It yanked some invisible string embedded deep within Bakura’s chest. He couldn’t breathe. A few stray hairs fell into Malik’s eyes and Bakura brushed them aside.

“Tell me the truth, how disappointed did your sister sound when you told her we were an item?”

“You would have laughed your ass off had you heard her tone. She tried to cover it up, but it was pretty obvious.” Malik’s smile sharpened into a smirk. “Okay, maybe that was half the temptation of it? I wanted to get back at her for springing this on me, and what better way than to make her think Malik Ishtar, Heir to the Line of the Tomb Keepers, had fallen in love with the scandalous, wicked, King of Thieves?”

“You know I love and heartily support vengeance.” Bakura pursed his lips as he schemed. “I’m going to go swing by Ryou’s real quick. I think we can whip up a few Christmas decorations that will ruffle your sister’s feathers even more, and she won’t be able to complain about it without seeming unreasonable—which your polite as fuck sister would never dream of doing.”

“Okay.” Malik grinned.

“When will they be in Domino?”

“Three days from now.”

“Great. Plenty of time. Okay. I’ll be back tomorrow and we’ll go Christmas shopping for presents. We need to have everything set up before she gets here so she can’t micromanage our choices. Your apartment is about to look like a cheesy Christmas Coca-Cola ad chugged one too many eggnogs and vomited all over the place. It’ll. Be. Amazing.”

“You’re kinda hot when you’re this evil,” Malik teased.

“Isn’t that why you decided to date me?” Bakura blew Malik a kiss and raced out the door.

***

“Hello Bakura. Please come in.” Ryou bowed and stepped back to allow Bakura into his apartment.

“I want to commission you to make a diorama.”

Ryou laughed as he walked to the kitchen. He turned on his water heater and grabbed two cups for tea.

“Since when do you commission me? Usually you shout out your idea and tell me to get to work.”

“This one isn’t for Monster World.”

“No?” Ryou raised an eyebrow. “What’s it for?”

“Check this, it’s hilarious.” Bakura jumped onto the counter, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. “Malik’s sister decided to impose Christmas on Malik this year, so to get back at her he lied and told her I was his boyfriend. Now I get to spend the next week trolling Ishtars, and my first decree as Boyfriend is that we’re going to have a mock manager scene showing the birth of our Lord and Savior—Baby Horus.”

“Oh dear.” Ryou shook his head and chuckled. “The drama. When do you need it?”

“They’ll be here in three days.”

“Ouch. That’s soon.” Ryou winced. “But I’m sure I can pull it off.”

“I’ll get the materials tomorrow when we go Christmas shopping.”

“Wow. You’re taking this seriously, aren’t you?” Ryou handed Bakura a cup of green tea.

“I am a method actor!” Bakura proclaimed. “Besides, Isis thinks the only way Malik can be happy is if she swoops in and handles every Zorc-damned detail herself. She needs to see Malik is capable of doing things on his own. He doesn’t need a mother. He doesn’t need a birthday or Christmas. He needs his sister to _listen_.”

“You’re such a good friend.” Ryou smiled.

“Slander.” Bakura scowled.

“You act like you want to annoy Isis, but you’re really protecting Malik like always.” Ryou sighed and stared at the pots of basil, sage, and rosemary growing around his kitchen. “Christmas...was my favorite holiday as a child. One of my last big memories with my mom and sister was our final Christmas together. Our mom was _so excited_ that she woke us up at 3AM shouting about how Santa left the presents and we needed to go see. Afterwards, she made French Toast with whipped cream and Christmas sprinkles. We were so happy.”

“Hey.” Bakura set his cup down, slipped off the counter, and swiped his knuckles across Ryou’s cheeks. “If this is going to upset you, you don’t have to—”

“No. It’s fine.” Ryou turned away, drying the rest of his tears himself. “They’re mostly happy tears. I just miss her.”

“Um…” Bakura shoved his hands into his pockets. “You know, Malik and I don’t really know what the fuck we’re doing, so if you want to hang out with us tomorrow and help us decorate you’d be doing us a favor.”

“You’re so manipulative, making me do all the work.” Ryou smiled. “But your wiles are _too strong._ I can’t possibly resist.”

“Great. The more Hallmark we can get this the better. I want Isis to linger in a perpetual state of annoyance because there’s nothing for her to do, but not have anything to complain about because everything is too nice for her to object to it.”

“You really are evil when you put your mind to it.”

“If only defeating the Pharaoh had been so easy.” Bakura gulped down his tea, knowing it would bother Ryou if he didn’t. “Okay, I’m out. I have to do some research. We’ll pick you up at 10 and catch breakfast before we hit the mall and—”

“Thank you!” Ryou crushed Bakura in a hug.

“Oi, oi! It’s no big deal.”

“I know this is fake, but I’m going to have fun.”

“Sure, sure. Enjoy it while you can, because Isis is _never_ gonna wanna have another Christmas as long as she lives once I’m done with her.” Bakura smirked.

“I’ll be sure to savor the moment. See you tomorrow.” Ryou waved.

Bakura copied the wave and headed back to his own apartment. He, Malik, and Ryou lived in a triangle on the same city block. Ryou joked that they needed a few more friends to move close by so they could draw a pentagram, but Bakura reminded him it would have to be _Ryou’s_ friends, because he and Malik had taken vows of friendship celibacy.

At home, Bakura kicked off his shoes and plopped on the couch. He grabbed his laptop and after searching for Christmas cliches, he gamed until his eyes were red-shot and bleary. Bakura didn’t bother going to bed. He rarely did. Cocooning himself in his blanket, Bakura allowed his mind to drift to sleep. However, his last conscious thoughts wanted to drift to his accidental kiss with Malik. Bakura rolled onto his other side and shoved his face in his pillow. It was fine. They had to kiss a few times to pull off their scheme, so it was better to dress rehearse. It was fine. The kiss had meant absolutely nothing to Bakura.


	2. December 18

“Hey babe.” Bakura kissed Malik’s cheek as Malik invited him inside.

Bakura had texted Malik beforehand to let him know they were swinging by Ryou’s and using him as a Christmas Coordinating Specialist.

“You don’t have to start yet.” Malik rubbed his cheek.

“Gotta stay in character. Are you ready?” Bakura offered his arm.

“Let me get my gloves.” Malik put on a pair of dark purple leather gloves which matched his jacket.

Slipping sunglasses onto his face, he accepted Bakura’s arm, and they stood side by side in the elevator. Silence between them was rare, but usually comfortable. However, Bakura’s stomach twitched with nerves, and he couldn’t stand the quiet.

“Do anything fun last night?” Bakura asked to hear one of their voices.

“I flung myself onto a velvet chaise, sighed deeply, and pined for you all night long.” Malik’s lips gleamed with some sort of gloss when he grinned.

Bakura stared a moment, captivated by Malik’s lips. He jerked his head away.

“I played video games and slept on the couch.”

“How do you sleep on the couch without it hurting your back?” Malik groaned, rolling his shoulders at the thought.

“I’m used to sleeping on the ground.” Bakura shrugged.

“Didn’t Ryou acclimate you to a bed?” Malik asked.

“Sure, but I don’t see the point.”

The elevator opened. They left the apartment and walked the streets. It snowed during the night. A layer of white dusted the shady areas of the city, and the roads were wet from thaw and glistening in the sun. The wind lifted their hair behind them, and Malik’s earrings flashed. Bakura swallowed. He palms sweated, but he wore gloves, so he didn’t hesitate to lace his fingers with Malik’s. A smirk twitched on his lips.

“You’re determined to see this through to the end, aren’t you?”

“You know it.” Bakura bumped Malik’s shoulder.

“Okay. Game on. Let’s play.”

“That’s the spirit.” Bakura squeezed Malik’s hand.

“I thought you were the Spirit?”

“If you think you’re going to seduce me with word play—you’re absolutely correct.”

Ryou waited in front of his apartment building. He waved when he saw them and jogged to meet them.

“Good morning!” He handed them each a lidded paper cup full of hot tea.

“Thanks.”

“It’s not coffee,” Bakura whispered to Malik.

“Tea’s okay.” Malik sipped from his cup and kept a straight face although Bakura knew Malik preferred coffee.

“I’m sorry.” Ryou bowed

“I appreciate the tea. Don’t listen to Bakura. He’s an asshole.”

“Love you, too, dumpling.” Bakura shot Malik with his finger.

“Goodness, you two really are pretending to date, aren’t you?”

“More or less.” Malik shrugged.

“He means more and more.” Bakura wrapped his arms around Malik’s waist and nuzzled between his shoulders.

“Cut it out. We’re on the street.” Malik giggled.

“I don’t care. What? Are some old people gonna frown at us. Oooooo, the scary Egyptians are hugging on the streets! The dishonor!”

“You’re so dramatic.” Malik pressed his gloved fingertip to Bakura’s nose, making it wrinkle.

They held hands and continued toward the mall. Ryou walked beside Bakura, explaining his plans for the Horus nativity scene.

“And if you need help baking cookies—you know I’m here to support you as a friend.”

“And to eat half the goods.” Bakura snorted.

“Yes. That too,” Ryou said.

They spent the better part of six hours at the mall and had so many packages that they had to call a cab to drive them to Malik’s place. As soon they stepped inside, Ryou rushed into the kitchen to pre-bake a few cookies while Bakura figured how the fuck to put up a fake Christmas tree.

“I’m sure Isis will pout because I didn’t buy a real one,” Malik said.

“Which is why we bought a fake one.” Bakura spread out the branches.

“Fake tree for our fake relationship.”

“It’s a metaphor!” Bakura plugged in the cord.

Lights twinkled between the branches. He and Malik stood side by side, admiring it.

“It’s pretty.”

“Not as pretty as you,” Bakura whispered.

Malik jerked, lips parting before he recovered and laughed.

“You’re a little too good at this.”

Bakura grinned, pressing his forehead against Malik. They stood in a loose embrace. It was wrong—how natural it was to embrace. Standing in Malik’s arms felt as instinctual as breathing. Bakura supposed it was because they’d hung out together for years. There were few people who Bakura could tolerate existing within close proximity, so of course standing 3 centimeters closer to Malik wasn’t such a big deal…

Malik cupped Bakura’s face. Bakura's eyes closed, same as before. He couldn’t seem to help himself. Malik sealed his mouth around Bakura’s bottom lip, pulling slightly. Then it was over, so quick it never truly existed at all, and Ryou stood near the kitchen with the first plate of cookies. They sat on the floor and celebrated Christmas hoaxes with three glasses of almond milk and a cookie in each hand. Ryou played Christmas music from the Trans Siberian Orchestra as they decorated. By the time they finished, Malik’s apartment looked like it belonged on a magazine cover. Bakura ran around the room high-fiving them for their accomplishments. Ryou excused himself, claiming to want to work on the nativity scene. He took a dozen cookies with him, but promised to bake more.

“So…” Malik said.

“Sooo....” Bakura rocked on his heels with his hands in his hoodie pockets.

“You taking off too?”

“Might stick around for a bit. Bask in the glow of our schemes.”

“Pretty sure that glow is the gingerbread scented candles we have lit everywhere.” Malik laughed.

“Schemes...candles...whatever.” Bakura shrugged.

“Want to...watch a movie?” Malik suggested.

“Sure. Sounds like a thing boyfriends would do.” Bakura stole a quick kiss before dropping onto the couch with Malik’s laptop. “There was one Ryou watched as a kid and it was trippy as fuck—this one.” He grinned. “ _The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus_.”

“Oh goody, more method acting with happy, wholesome Christmas movies.” Malik rolled his eyes. “Let’s watch horror films like we do every year with Mai and Ryou.”

“Trust me. This is _nothing_ like you think it’ll be. It’s worth watching for the shits and giggles.”

“All right. I trust you. I’ll make some popcorn.”

Leaning against each other with a bowl of popcorn between them, Bakura started the old stop-animation film. Malik scowled.

“I thought we were watching a Christmas movie?”

“We are.” Bakura grinned.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure the Forest of Burzee and Ak, Master Woodsman of the World, have _nothing_ to do with Christmas.”

“You’re absolutely right, Malik, but what you need to understand about this movie is...it doesn’t give a fuck.”

“It sure doesn’t. Look at these guys.”

“But does the Immortality Song not slap?”

“It’s...a _little_ catchy.”

Malik and Bakura hummed along, singing _im-more-tal-ity_! Each time it came up in the lyrics. They burst into a fit of laughter, spending more time poking fun at the movie rather than watching it. Bakura tried to re-write “We Wanna Wake Up To A Big Surprise” as a limerick, but Malik plastered his hand over Bakura’s mouth.

“Shut-up. Shut-up. Shut-up. You’re ruining my childhood.”

“Your childhood? Ryou watched this one time with subtitles when he was eight. How is this hurting your childhood?”

“You’re ruining my childhood innocence with your lame ass sex jokes.”

“So nothing about getting my stocking stuffed?” Bakura asked.

“No.”

“And no morning wood—”

“Here.” Malik shoved a fistful of popcorn into Bakura’s mouth to silence him. He re-focused on the movie until they mentioned the Awgwas. “Ha! Evil spirits that convince children to be bad and steal things. Is this literally you, Bakura?”

“It’s more likely than you think.” Bakura grinned, stealing another handful of popcorn.

When Malik saw the white hair on the devils he laughed so hard he fell off the couch.

“Uh, Malik?”

“Oh my gods! It is you! This is so you! You’re the bad guy in this fucking movie!” Malik held his stomach, still laughing.

“Get your ass back onto the couch.” Bakura held out his hand for Malik to grab.

Bakura pulled Malik onto the sofa and they set the popcorn aside so they could lay spooned together.

“We fit pretty well on my sofa, don’t we?’

“Guess so.” Bakura focused on the movie in order to push his true thoughts away.

“So if you’re the king of the evil spirits who keep stealing all the toys—is Ak Atem?” Malik chortled a few minutes later when the war against the two factions began.

Bakura groaned.

“You watched this, and yet _you_ thought you could somehow beat the Pharaoh, even after seeing this guy get ax-laser-beamed right in the face?”

“Pharaoh didn’t have an ax?” Bakura shrugged.

Malik’s arm was draped over him, its weight heavy yet perfect against his body. A shudder ran through Bakura. Malik mistook it as a regular shiver and pulled a flannel they’d bought for decoration over both of them. He snuggled closer, and Bakura’s stomach looped-de-looped.

“Mantle of Immortality. Very convenient.” Malik snickered once the movie finished.

“You think we could show this to Isis and convince her it’s a documentary?”

“I’m pretty sure the puppets would give away that it’s fiction.” Malik pinched Bakura’s ribs.

“Hey!” Bakura twisted so he faced Malik.

Malik laughed. His hair was scattered around his face as he lay on the sofa. He rubbed the area he’d pinched in apology. The smile on Malik’s face made breathing difficult for Bakura.

“Anyway...thanks for exposing me to my first Christmas movie. It wasn’t what I expected.”

“You can always count on me to fuck with your expectations.” Bakura grinned.

“This wasn’t a bad first date, right? You should hire yourself out to guys who want to rent a boyfriend to anger their family for the holidays.”

“I’ll make business cards and advertise on reddit.” Bakura raised and lowered his eyebrows.

Malik laughed and his cheeks were rosy. He leaned close to Bakura’s lips while holding onto Bakura’s side.

“Better end this date properly.” Malik smirked.

“We can’t break character,” Bakura grinned.

“In that case…” Malik swallowed Bakura’s bottom lip and sucked.

Bakura’s fingers curled into Malik’s hair. He sighed through his nose. His tongue dabbed against Malik’s lips and Malik gasped. They broke, staring at each other. Bakura stood, dragging his fingers through his hair and drawing in a heavy breath.

“It’s late,” Bakura said because the silence between them was smothering him.

“I didn’t realize how late it was. I’m usually asleep by now.” Malik stretched.

“I should go home.”

“Are you...coming over tomorrow?”

“Why? Miss your boyfriend already?” Bakura glanced over his shoulder with a grin.

“I pine without you.” Malik exhaled, pretending to faint on the couch.

“I think it’d be a good idea to bring some of my stuff over. A few clothes, a toothbrush, things to make it look like I spend the night from time to time.”

“I tease you for not being able to throw together a plan, but you really are thinking of every detail here. It’s nice to work with you again on a scheme.” Malik twisted a strip of Bakura’s white hair with his pointer finger.

Bakura hummed in agreement, too lost in Malik’s close presence to say anything else. Their eyes caught, and they leaned into each other again, but they both jerked back. Bakura waved, and Malik copied him. As Bakura rushed out the door, Malik rushed to his room. Neither one stopped the other.

Bakura hurried to his place. He played video games. Paced. Packed the things he wanted to take to Malik’s. Paced. Finally, he plopped on top of his unmade bed and watched the ceiling fan spin. It was 2 AM. He should sleep, but he couldn’t. His brain replayed each time he kissed Malik on a never-ending loop that was somehow more of a prison than the Ring had ever been. And Malik’s arm around him as they lay on the couch? It was no big deal so why couldn’t Bakura banish it from his thoughts. Bakura smothered himself with his pillow. Mercy killing. Or it would have been had he not tossed the pillow aside thirty seconds later in a fit of restlessness. He kicked the mattress, started humming, realized it was from the Christmas movie, and stopped immediately. 2:30 AM now. It was hopeless.


	3. December 19

Bakura dropped a toothbrush into the holder near Malik’s sink. He glared at it, offended by it somehow. Its audacity to look _right_ resting in the hole next to Malik’s toothbrush. He put a bottle of his cologne next to Malik’s. In Malik’s bedroom Bakura filled a drawer with his clothes. He doubted Isis would be snooping through Malik’s dresser, but he wouldn’t hold it 100% past her either, so he covered his bases. Bakura also set up a few Monster World figurines on a shelf Malik kept knick knacks. On “his side” of the bed, he set a manga down on the nightstand, and a bottle of lube. 

“Bakura. No.” Malik crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Is the manga too much?” Bakura asked with a sweet faux-Ryou smile. 

“Think she wouldn’t notice it was an unused bottle?” Malik grunted, grabbed the lube, and dropped it into the first drawer of the nightstand. 

“Well, give me a few minutes alone and I can use some for the sake of authenticity.” 

“Jerking off in my bed something you think of often?” Malik raised an eyebrow. 

“Sure. All the time. I jerk off in my bed to the thought of jerking off in your bed every night.” 

“Didn’t know you were so into eggplant colored sheets.” 

“It’s not the color.” Bakura dropped onto the mattress and smoothed his fingers over Malik’s bedding. “It’s the texture.” 

Malik laughed, tossing himself beside Bakura. He teased a finger over the fabric of Bakura’s shirt. 

“We should probably collaborate a little, yes? Make sure our stories are straight.” 

“Absolutely not. Our stories must be 100% gay or she’ll never believe we’re boyfriends.” 

“Okay, smart ass.” Malik faked a punch to the shoulder he’d been caressing only seconds before. 

“Not only is my ass smart, but it’s sexy and has a good personality too. How long have we been hanging out?” 

“I don’t know? Five years?” 

“Okay, let’s make it easy and say we’ve been dating for over a year. First official date was the aquarium, and the second was the marina.” 

“Why there?”

“Because that’s where we met and spoke during Battle City so it’ll be easy to remember.” 

“Ah. Damn, I guess I’m out of sorts with this entire fiasco. I can’t even remember the basics of lying right now.” 

“Don’t worry. We can wing it. If things get awkward we can giggle and hold hands and pretend we’re nervous. Idiot couples do that sort of nonsense all the time.” 

“How do you know what normal couples do?” 

“I’m 3,000 years old. Even avoiding people whenever I can, I still catch things.” 

“So we love to go on rides on my boat or motorcycle, and we stare at the fish while holding hands. I’m afraid to say, Bakura, we’re a little bit dull as a couple.” 

“We can tell her we swap out priceless paintings with convincing forgeries and sell them on the black market if you want more adventure in our love life.” 

“Knowing my sister...she’s going to ask a lot of _annoying questions_. What’s our favorite display at the aquarium? How many dolphins are there? She might even want to go herself and have us show her around, so we should case the place so we have a general understanding of the layout.” 

“Are you asking me on a date?” 

“Fake date.” Malik winked. 

“Give me an hour.” Bakura rolled on top of Malik, placing a quick kiss on his lips before dashing out the apartment. 

Bakura jogged home, showered, and dressed in a red sweater and his good jacket. He teased his hair, and stopped by a flowershop and spent an _obscene_ amount of money on a bouquet of sapphire orchids and lavender. He was staying in character, dammit, and if they were going on a date he was going to play for the most possible experience points. 

He knocked on the door. 

Malik answered, eyes growing wide when he saw the flowers. Malik also dressed warm, but ready for a date. He wore fur lined boots and matching coat, and his pants showed off his legs. He held the flowers close to his chest and touched the delicate curves of the orchid petals.

“I expected you to show up with roses, but this…” 

“As if I’d get you something as basic as roses. I know you better. You like expensive, exotic things, and you like those colors.” Bakura snorted.

“You better be careful. Keep spoiling me like this and I’m not going to let the game end even after Isis goes home.” Malik plucked one of the orchids from the bouquet and dragged the petals down the scar on Bakura’s face.

“Better put those in water.” He nudged his chin to the flowers. 

“Of course.” Malik filled a crystal vase with water and set the flowers on a table. 

They didn’t quite fit in with the pine garlands, cinnamon sticks, mistletoe, and and holly, but they suited Malik far more than the evergreens and pinecones did. Malik handed Bakura his motorcycle helmet and they walked hand in hand to the parking lot. 

Aquarium aside, their ‘dates’ were everything they did on a regular basis. Bakura did ride around town with Malik—enough that Malik had bought Bakura his own helmet. They hung out at the pier or shopped in search of rare games. They played duel monsters together and Monster World with Mai and Ryou. Sometimes, they even attended tournaments or took the train out of Domino to be anywhere else for a weekend. The only difference between this and a normal night was Bakura’s heart panicking because he couldn’t stop imagining the good night kiss they’d have at the end of their ‘date.’ 

Growing up in the desert, Bakura didn’t mind walking around the aquarium. He imagined Malik felt the same way. The light filtered through the tanks and wavy lines danced around them. Blue hushed over everything. Malik glanced at Bakura, and his eyes in the blue light reminded Bakura of the sapphire orchids sitting on Malik’s table. Malik grinned and dragged his fingers through Bakura’s hair. 

“Almost looks like it’s glowing,” Malik said when he withdrew his hand. 

“Same with your fur.” Bakura teased the fur collar of Malik’s coat. 

It was thick between Bakura’s fingers, but what he wanted to touch was Malik’s hair. Malik intertwined their hands and led him through a tunnel and a coral display. In the center, the reefs were cultivated into the shape of a heart. Inspiration struck Bakura and he grabbed his cell phone, jerking Malik close. 

“Selfie.” Bakura snapped a few photos with the heart surrounding them in frame. 

“Brilliant.” Malik grinned. “Send them to me. I post one on my Instagram page. I know Isis creeps it.” 

“This dating crap is too easy.” Bakura grabbed Malik’s hand and lead him to the next section. 

They stayed out late enough to need dinner, so Malik offered to treat Bakura to steak. Never one to turn down free food, Bakura agreed. Malik took a few more photos while they waited for their waiter. When he arrived, Bakura ordered for both of them, choosing grilled salmon for Malik and a T-bone for himself. 

“Again, I’m a little impressed. You knew exactly what I wanted.” Malik sipped his pinot noir. 

“I love to brag, but it’s not really impressive knowing stuff about you. We fight all the time, of course I’m going to learn what you like and what you don’t.” 

“Whenever I hear about people’s dating lives, they’re complaining about their partner _not_ knowing anything important about them. Even when they try to make it obvious? I never understood why people dated at all if I’m being honest.” 

“Maybe those people complaining should date their best friends.” Bakura winked. 

Malik bumped his foot against Bakura’s, teasing his toe up Bakura’s calf. Bakura blushed, but forced himself not to squirm. Malik refused to stop. He spoke casually enough, a relaxed expression on his face, but all the while he toyed with Bakura’s feet and legs. By the time the waiter returned with their food, Bakura’s fingers were gripping the edge of the table. 

The steak was a welcomed distraction. Bakura tore into it with fervor. He was so focused on the meal, that it didn’t register that Malik had ordered one desert until he moved his chair closer to Bakura and raised his fork to Bakura’s lips. It was a tuxedo cheesecake. The white and dark chocolate swirled together in an elaborate design. Bakura opened his mouth and allowed Malik to feed him. Their pinkies locked together, almost as if pinky swearing. 

Malik settled the bill and drove them to his place. Bakura gave Malik’s apartment a final look over. The decorations were in place, Bakura had _just enough_ of his things snuck here and there to announce his constant presence, there was nothing left except to wait for Isis and Rishid to arrive so the true show could begin. Bakura opened his mouth to tell Malik goodnight, but Malik slipped his hand into Bakura’s. 

“It might be easier if you actually spend the night,” Malik said. 

Bakura’s jaw dropped. He wasn’t sure if Malik meant on the sofa or in his arms, but either way had electricity surging through Bakura and shorting all his circuits. 

Malik swallowed. “Because, their flight arrives in the morning, and I thought you could go with me to meet them, and—”

The couch, then. Malik probably wanted him on the couch. They weren’t going to _really_ do this. A few kisses sure, but nothing serious. Bakura told himself as Malik continued to ramble. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed…

He licked his lips.

Malik drew close. 

Bakura responded immediately. He lidded his gaze, parted his lips, tilted his head even as Malik moved closer. They kissed once. Malik held Bakura’s face and traced Bakura’s lips with his fingertips. Bakura told himself it was stupid _stupid stupid_. Who actually reached out and touched someone’s lips? It was ridiculous. But he gasped and opened his mouth wider and slipped his tongue out so he could pull Malik’s middle finger into his mouth and suck it gently. Malik gasped as if Bakura had performed some amazing feat. 

“Stay,” Malik whispered brushing his lips against the shell of Bakura’s ear. 

Was this staying in character? Was this a game they would play for a week and then go back to sitting on the couch with a cushion worth of space between them? The thought pierced Bakura through the chest. Bakura never considered kissing Malik. It was forbidden fruit he’d never so much as glanced at, but now Bakura licked the juice of it from Malik’s lips and he was _greedy_ , so, so, so terribly greedy. He needed Malik at that moment. _Needed_. 

“Malik,” Bakura whined when Malik licked his throat. 

Malik followed through with plush, sensuous kisses to Bakura’s pulse. Bakura’s eyes closed. He wished they were fucking. Getting slammed against the wall and fondled could be written off as a moment of lust spurned by their game, but this, _this_ was no quick enactment of lust. Malik savored each drag of his lips against Bakura’s throat. Bakura circled his fingers against the small of Malik’s back in a way that whispered without words that he knew Malik hurt there, and he’d always be gentle around Malik’s scars. 

“Bakura,” Malik purred against Bakura’s skin. 

Bakura couldn’t resist. He never intended on saying no to begin with, but Malik saying Bakura’s name in a deep, husky voice was all it took to undo Bakura and make him fall deeper. 

“Mmm...baby. Take me to bed.” Bakura coiled his arms around Malik’s neck. 

Malik hoisted Bakura into his arms and rushed to his bedroom. He dropped Bakura onto the bed and grabbed the lube from the nightstand. Bakura squirmed out of his jeans and sweater and shifted into the center of the mattress. Malik tossed the lube beside him, kicked out of his pants, but paused when his fingers hooked beneath his shirt. 

“You don’t have to—” Bakura held up his hands, knowing why Malik hesitated. 

Malik gazed at Bakura. A smile lit up his face brighter than any Christmas tree. He flung the shirt off and out the door, jumping onto the bed and crawling until he caught Bakura’s mouth with his own. Their lips smashed together muffled the moan escaping Bakura’s throat. He hooked one of his legs across Malik’s calf and held the back of Malik’s head. 

“I know this is dumb and not really part of the deal,” Malik whispered against Bakura’s lips. “But I’m stressed, and they’ll be here tomorrow, and—”

“Shhh…” Bakura combed his fingers through Malik’s hair. 

The strands slipped around Bakura’s touch. For a moment Bakura couldn’t focus on anything but the softness of Malik’s hair. His gaze locked onto Malik’s. Malik’s typical mask hiding his emotions must have been thrown off with his clothing, because Bakura could see the storm of apprehension, and worry, but more than anything he saw...yearning. Something inside Bakura melted. He could never say no to Malik, either out loud or as he lay beneath him. 

Reaching up, Bakura removed the gold from Malik’s neck and tossed it on the nightstand. He brushed his fingers along Malik’s exposed neck and caressed Malik’s skin with his lips. Malik sighed, loud enough to almost count as a groan. As Bakura worked gently along Malik’s neck, Malik’s fingers gripped and kneaded the muscles in Bakura’s arms. Their lips gravitated toward each other, pressing together. Malik rolled his hips; Bakura gasped. Bakura’s leg slid from Malik’s calf to the backs of his thighs, and Malik hitched their bodies together. Each time they pressed, their cocks rubbed together and charged both of them with greater _want_. Bakura grabbed Malik’s ass and guided his body. Fumbling for the lube, Malik grabbed the bottle and eased away enough to drizzle their cocks. 

“Fuck that’s cold.” Bakura squirmed as Malik rubbed the gel into their skin. 

“At least it’s no longer a new bottle.” Malik closed the cap and tossed the bottle onto the floor. 

“Authenticity. Very important.” Bakura’s face twisted in pleasure when Malik gripped both their shafts and stroked them together. 

“How’s the _texture_ of the sheets now?” Malik purred in Bakura’s ear. 

“Fantastic.” Bakura held Malik’s hips, encouraging him to move. 

Malik’s eyes dropped closed. He gripped Bakura’s shoulder with his left held, held their cocks in his right, and rocked their bodies together. All the thoughts in Bakura’s mind flew away like pigeons leaving a coop. They’d return and roost in his mind later, but for the moment they were free and too far away for him to worry about. 

Bakura urged Malik to circle faster. The way their dicks slid together drove him wild. His breathing huffed from his mouth in ragged, uncontrolled gasps. Slight whines escaped from Malik as he drew close. The sounds made Bakura clench his muscles, bucking into Malik’s movements. 

“Ba-kura!” Malik cried, splashing between them. 

Bakura growled, more desperate than before to be touched by Malik. Malik shifted and grabbed Bakura’s cock. He jerked with wild, possessive flicks of his wrists. Bakura grit his teeth, curled his toes, and rode the final spike of pleasure until it poured from him in a wave of euphoria. 

“Hot damn…” Bakura shivered, small aftershocks of pleasure trembled through him each time he exhaled. “Fake boyfriends with benefits isn’t a bad scenario.” 

“I never knew how badly I wanted to do that until I had you beneath me.” Malik sank beside him, slinging his arm over Bakura’s chest. 

Bakura glanced at Malik. His face was sleepy and content, none of the worry from earlier remained. Bakura smiled and brushed the hair from Malik’s face. 


	4. December 20

Bakura didn’t realize they’d fallen asleep until the alarm made them both bolt upright. 

“Fuck, we have to meet them at the airport. Shit! I’m not ready yet.” Malik leapt out of bed. 

“Who the fuck even picks a flight this early?” Bakura yawned. 

“It’s actually super late for them. Remember, Luxor is several hours behind us.” Malik grabbed a pile of clothes and dropped them on the unmade bed. “Dammit. I need a shower.” 

“So do I.” Bakura gave Malik a sheepish grin and scratched his tummy. 

“Not enough time for separate showers. Come with me.” Malik shoved Bakura into the bathroom and turned on the water. 

“Playing boyfriends the right way.” Bakura chuckled. 

“If we’re late I will divorce you.” Malik tugged Bakura beneath the shower spray when it was hot enough. 

“We’re not fake married. Although I suppose if Isis ever _really_ pisses you off we can certainly go there.” Bakura tied his longer hair into a knot before scrubbing himself down with Malik’s milk and honey body wash. 

He jerked when Malik’s fingers glided down his shoulders.

“Sorry. I was admiring your scars.” Malik shrugged. 

“Pharaoh gave me this one.” Bakura pointed to one of the deeper pits puckering his flesh. 

“Bet you gave him one in return.” Malik smiled and he teased the correct scar. 

“Bet your sweet ass I did.” Bakura grabbed Malik’s shoulders and swapped their positions so Malik had better access to the shower stream. “Your turn.” 

“Thanks.” Malik washed his body. 

Bakura filled his hands with body wash—skipping the towel—worked up a lather, and smoothed the foam over Malik’s back. A small whine escaped Malik, and he clenched his fist, but he also pressed into Bakura’s touch in a way which led no room for doubt as to what Malik wanted. Bakura continued to wash and massage Malik’s skin. When he finished, he rinsed Malik clean and placed a light kiss onto Malik’s sun disk. 

Malik studied Bakura. Bakura pressed Malik’s hand to Bakura’s heart. 

“As your boyfriend, I promise I will not pick any fights with your sister—although I’m not letting her get away with trying to steer you around like cattle either. Remember, we’re in control here, and we’re going to win this odd social holiday game _she_ decided to play.” 

“I know you don’t like the term, but you really are my best friend.” Malik kissed Bakura. 

And dammit if every fucking time they kissed, Bakura’s heart didn’t try to summersault right out of his chest. One would think after sleeping with Malik the kisses would lose their potency, but if anything, Bakura felt them more strongly. 

They took the bus to the airport, bundled in more clothing than either of them prefered. While they waited for the plane to unboard, Malik bought Isis a small toy bear and Rishid a travel-sized, folding magnetic checkerboard as welcome gifts. Despite Malik being nervous beforehand, when he saw his siblings his face brightened with genuine happiness. He ran and threw his arms around each of them in a hearty hug before shoving the presents into their hands. Not one to be outdone by an Ishtar, Bakura also ran up and hugged them. 

“Hello...Bakura,” Isis said. Her words were polite but her face betrayed her unease. 

“I’m glad you and Malik stopped dancing around the issue.” Rishid nudged Bakura with his elbow. 

“But I do so enjoy dancing.” Bakura smirked. 

“Are you hungry? We can stop and get breakfast, or if you’d rather have a nap we can go home first.” Malik held Isis’s hands as he talked with her. 

“I’d like to drop our things at your place, if you don’t mind. Then I have some shopping I need to do.” 

“Okay. Let’s get your luggage.” 

“I got it.” Bakura waved Malik away. 

In truth, he didn’t want Malik hurting his back while pretending he was A-Okay in front of his sister. Malik usually demanded Bakura carry heavy things for him anyway, and he didn’t see why he should stop now when he was supposed to be The Boyfriend, Level 3. 

“Allow me,” Rishid said. 

“I said I got it.” 

Uh, no Rishid wasn’t going to steal his experience points. Bakura made sure he grabbed half the suitcases from Rishid despite the protests. They grumbled under their breath at each other, each one trying to carry a little more than the other. Then Rishid insisted he take the front seat of the cab so Bakura could sit with Malik, but hell no, Malik hardly got to see his siblings, so naturally Bakura would sit up front. 

The cab ride was awkward and full of painful small talk. Bakura scrambled out the second the cab rolled to a stop, and he beat Rishid to first dibs on the suitcases. All his fake efforts of being polite paid off the moment they stepped inside and Isis’s eyes scanned their Winter Wonderland of an apartment. 

“You...already decorated.” Isis forced a smile.

"That's my fault." Bakura waddled past her with six different suitcases. "Ryou missed his mom, so we let him decorate with us. A few Christmas lights and the dozen cookies always could cheer him up." 

The best lies didn't give false information, but rather sculpted the truth into what the teller needed at the time. 

"He celebrated Christmas as a child?" Isis asked.

"Until his mom died." Bakura stacked the luggage. Suddenly his perfect lie was a little too honest and it settled in a dense ball at the bottom of Bakura's stomach.

"Well, I was hoping we could decorate together, but I'm glad you were able to cheer up your former vessel." 

"Ryou," Malik and Bakura corrected together, a bit of panic in their voices.

“I’m sorry. I forget his experience was so much different than Yugi’s.” 

“Bakura, why are you putting those there. Set them in the guest bedroom,” Malik changed the subject. 

Bakura scowled at Malik before grabbing the suitcases—all of them so Rishid didn’t get any ideas. He couldn’t fit through the doorway, so he had to set them down and grab two at a time. Bakura tended to forget Malik even had the guest room. It was a small, uninteresting square stocked with two day beds and a wardrobe. Clearly it was something which existed solely for his sibling’s visits and it was probably the second time Bakura ever stepped foot in it. 

When he returned, Rishid handed Bakura a cup of tea. Bakura grunted and sipped from his cup. Isis gave Malik a hug. 

“I’ll be shopping for quite some time today, so don’t worry about me, but I will be home for dinner.” 

“Wait, are you going alone? We really don’t mind going with you,” Malik insisted. 

“I can’t buy presents for you if you’re with me.” Isis shook her head. 

“I still hate the thought of you wandering around alone.” Malik frowned.

“You know, if you want a guide, I’m sure Ryou and Mai would love an excuse to go shopping,” Bakura said. 

“I couldn’t possibly trouble them.” Isis shook her head. 

“No, when I say ‘love an excuse’ I mean they’ll jump up and down like two excited idiots, kidnap you for the rest of the day, and drag you to all sorts of stores you never even knew existed. Those fools shop like Seto Kaiba duels.” 

“Well...if they really wouldn’t mind? It would be nice to have company.” Isis shrugged. 

Bakura pulled out his phone to text Ryou when someone knocked on the door. Bakura opened it and saw Ryou standing in the hallway, panting and holding a large box. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t finish on time! I stayed up the entire night painting, but had to wait until everything dried!” 

“I’ll forgive you, but only if you agree to go shopping with Isis.” 

“That sounds wonderful. We’ll grab Mai and stop by our favorite pastry shop—Isis have you ever had a pedicure? They’re really fun, and I know Mai will probably drag you with her to get one while we’re at the mall.” 

“Um...a what?’

“Nevermind. It’ll be more fun as a surprise.” Ryou shoved the box at Bakura. “Have fun setting this up. If you need me to tweak anything just let me know. Come on Isis. I’ll text Mai so she can be ready by the time we get to her place.” 

Ryou grabbed Isis’s gloved hand and dragged her out of the apartment. Before she vanished, she flashed Malik a nervous glance, but Malik only grinned and waved goodbye.

“ _Heh, heh_ , let’s see how much Isis likes friendship when she has to deal with it for hours at a time.” Bakura chuckled. 

“So, what’s in the box?” Rishid asked. 

Bakura smirked and placed the box on the end table he’d left empty for the nativity set. He’d forgotten all about it after getting swept up in an accidental date with Malik complete with post-date coffee. He unpacked the manger and all the figurines. 

“One last little decoration for the apartment.” Bakura grinned as he set everything up. 

“So Malik.” Rishid sat down, caging his fingers in his lap. “Are you angry?” 

“No.” Malik kept his gaze on the nativity scene and not his brother. 

“Then why is the apartment already decorated?” 

“I told you, it’s my fault,” Bakura said. 

“Convenient.” Rishid nodded. 

“Rishid, if you have something to say—say it.” Malik shut his eyes. 

“Bakura’s being suspiciously nice. The apartment is festive. There are presents already under the tree?” Rishid raised an eyebrow. 

“Isis wanted to celebrate Christmas. We’re celebrating,” Malik said. 

“Isis wanted to help.” 

“Isis wants to swaddle Malik in a blanket and shield him from reality—you guys did that when he was little, how did that go, Rishid?” Bakura sat on the coffee table and crossed both his arms and legs. He stared at Rishid, not angry, but blunt and unapologetic. 

“She just wants some happy memories.” Rishid averted his gaze. 

“Then she should celebrate _her birthday_ ,” Bakura said. 

“She’s guilty. How can she celebrate her own birthday when Malik suffers during his?” 

“It wouldn’t upset me.” Malik sat beside Rishid. “Will you tell her? If I try...I don’t want to argue.”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to her when we’re back in Egypt.” Rishid nodded. “Is that Anubis in the manger?” 

“Anubis, Thoth, Ma’at, Nut, Bast, Hathor, Ra, and baby Horus.” Bakura admired Ryou’s handy work. The nativity also had camels, crocodiles, storks, cows, and other sacred animals. As always, Ryou’s attention to detail was immaculate. 

“Were you trying to be blasphemous against Christmas, the gods, or both?” 

“This was for shits and giggles.” Bakura shrugged. 

But when he truly thought it over, perhaps he wanted an excuse to drag Ryou into the Christmas nonsense the same way Malik had dragged him into it. Asking for the diorama was what lead to Ryou shopping with them and gave him an afternoon to bake cookies instead of sitting at home alone and missing his family.

“So…” Rishid drew his attention away from the manger and studied Malik. “Are you going to undermine Isis at every turn? Or are we going to try to make the best of this?” 

“I wasn’t planning on undermining her,” Malik protested. 

“No, that’s what Bakura is for.” Rishid smiled. 

“Busted,” Bakura snickered. 

“Shut-up.” Malik raked Bakura’s hair into his face. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve already promised to be on my best behavior.” Bakura bowed. 

“He did.” Malik blushed, most likely remembering Bakura naked in the shower when he made said promise. 

“I feel like Bakura’s _good behavior_ is enough to ruin any holiday.” Rishid sipped his cooling tea. 

“Bitch just watch, this is going to be one of those Christmas Specials you see on TV. I’m _amazing_ , and will fake the holiday spirit to prove a point.” Bakura sashayed toward the kitchen. “Now if you excuse me, I’m going to make breakfast.” 

“What point?” Rishid called from the living room.

“The point that I’m the best fucking role player in Domino City—and yes I will fight Ryou to the death over the title.” 

“Yeah? What role exactly are you playing?” Rishid asked. 

“A human being!” Bakura and Malik both shouted in response. 

They glanced at each other, laughing loudly before Bakura stared at Malik’s mostly empty cupboards and fridge. He marched into the living room again. 

“Malik, we forget to go grocery shopping.” 

“It’s Ryou’s fault. He fed us so many cookies, the last thing I wanted to think about was more food.” Malik gestured with a dismissive wave. 

“Actually, I was hoping I could cook?” Rishid suggested. “If you don’t mind, I would like to go to the store with you.” 

“Sure. I miss your cooking.” Malik smiled. 

“Then let’s depart.” 

“Cold!” Bakura whined while wrapping himself in his coat again.

“We haven’t even left the apartment yet.” Malik laughed. 

“I’m emotionally preparing.” Bakura stuck out his tongue. 

“I don’t like the cold, either.” Rishid wrapped himself in several layers. 

“Of course not, you have common sense,” Bakura said. 

“You and Isis really should visit in the spring. Hanami would be much more fun to celebrate.” Malik lead the way as they walked to the elevator. 

“Also something I might bring up to Isis after this trip is over. Though you do realize that _you_ can suggest these things to her yourself?” 

“Yeah, I know.” Malik hugged himself. “But I’d rather you do it.” 

Bakura walked beside him. He took Malik’s arm and hung onto it. A smile graced Malik’s lips, and he gave Bakura’s arm a squeeze. 

“So what are you going to feed us? Because we only eat a diet of 100% animal products.” Bakura grinned over his shoulder at Rishid. 

“As if.” Malik wrinkled his face.

“I’m making Kushari tonight,” Rishid said. 

“Malik, you’re buying me enough steaks to get through the holidays,” Bakura said. 

“Fair,” Malik agreed. 

“Will you eat fish?” Rishid asked. 

“It’s okay.” Bakura shrugged. 

“I’ll cook salmon tomorrow.” 

“Thanks Baldy.” Bakura’s nose scrunched when he grinned. Malik’s smile widened when he looked at Bakura—which made Bakura’s cheeks burn. 

They stopped at a coffee shop for drinks and their own breakfast before going to the store. When they returned to the apartment, Bakura convinced Rishid to try video games and they lost the entire afternoon to Battle Toads and bantering. Rishid only stopped to go and fix dinner. Alone, Malik and Bakura wrapped themselves in the decorative flannel blanket and nuzzled against each other. 

“You want me to spend the night again?” 

“I want you to spend every night.” Malik kissed the corner of Bakura’s mouth. 

“Careful now. I think that might make us real, official boyfriends.” Bakura ran his thumbs across Malik’s cheekbones. 

“Don’t be dense. It only makes us viciously thorough.” 

“Oooo, I like that. You should talk evil schemes to me more often Malik.” 

Malik giggled. He pulled the blanket over their heads and stole a long, lazy kiss from Bakura’s lips. Bakura wanted more. He dove into another kiss, sucking Malik’s lips until they heard the key turn in the knob. Bakura jumped back. He wiped his mouth, though he couldn’t wipe away the rosy color of the friction. Fortunately no one really paid them any mind. Mai and Isis were linked arm in arm, laughing about something. Ryou rushed past them carrying several bags to the guest room. 

“No peeking!” Ryou called. 

It wasn’t hard to notice the way Mai and Isis laughed louder than they should have. Or the way Mai leaned far too close. Or the blush on Isis’s cheeks. Bakura nudged Malik’s ribs and Malik nodded. They exchanged a look, expressing the same idea at the same time: maybe Isis wouldn’t be so overbearing if Malik wasn’t the only one hitting the dating scene. Bakura opened his mouth to invite Mai to dinner, but then bit his bottom lip. Isis was clear this was _family time_ , so much so Bakura was now “dating” Malik. He needed to set this up carefully. 

Bakura grabbed his phone and searched events in Domino. He saw the perfect opportunity. 

“You know, they’re doing a big light festival all week at Domino City Square Park. Did you want to go with us tomorrow night, Isis?” 

“I’m sorry?” Isis snapped out of her Mai-filled trance. “What were you saying?” 

“Malik wanted to go to the light festival tomorrow night. Did you already have plans or can we go?” 

“No...that...sounds lovely.” Isis creased her brow as if she expected an ambush.

“That really does sound fun.” A sad smile crept across Mai’s face. It wasn’t her usual look, but December seemed to be a universally hard month for about every duelist in Domino. 

“Would you like to come?” Isis offered. “Oh, uh, Ryou too, o-of course.” 

“We don’t want to butt into your family time.” Mai waved the suggestion away. 

“You don’t mind, do you Malik?” Isis gave him a hopeful look. 

“Of course I don’t mind.” Malik flashed a Namu grin. “In fact, I insist. Hot chocolate’s on me.” 

“Hot chocolate?” Ryou asked as he appeared from the hallway. 

“Isis and Malik invited us to go see the lights with them at the park.” 

“The one with the train?” Ryou’s eyes lit up. 

“Yeah, Domino City Square Park,” Bakura said. 

“How fun.” Ryou’s face fell. “But we’re not getting in the way, are we? I’m sure you want to catch up with Mal—ow! Bakura! You’re so mean.” Ryou pouted after a red and green plaid pillow smacked him in the face. 

“Bakura,” Isis said, her tone disapproving.

“Ooops, it slipped.” Bakura gave a single shouldered shrug. 

“Meet us here at 7:00 and we’ll take the bus together.” Malik diverted the attention away from Bakura and back to their plans. 

“Okay, we’ll see you tomorrow then. I should be heading home for now. All those new clothes won’t put themselves away.” Mai blew them all a kiss and waltzed out the door. 

"I need to go too.” Ryou bowed. 

“Thank you so much for shopping with me.” Isis returned the bow. 

“It was fun! I’ll see everyone tomorrow!” Ryou waved before leaving as well. 

Behind Isis’s line of sight, Bakura held out his hand and Malik gave him a silent hi-five before addressing his sister again. 

“So you had fun?” 

“Yes, it was nice spending time with a few of Yugi’s friends.” 

“ _Our friends_ ,” Bakura corrected. 

He never used the term. Scoffed at it. Dismissed it. But when Isis said “Yugi’s friends” something fierce and possessive ruptured from Bakura’s chest and made the words fly out of his mouth. Yugi never played Monster World with them, or had horror movie marathons, or ate himself sick with them. Malik, Ryou, and Mai were a squad, and Yugi couldn’t have them because Bakura had stolen them. 

“It’s good to see how much you’ve changed.” Isis smiled, her guard finally relaxing around Bakura. 

“Pfffft, whatever.” Bakura crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I should see if Rishid needs help with dinner.” Isis left them. 

“What made you choose a light festival?” Malik grinned. 

“I thought you would like it.” A smile twitched against Bakura’s lips. “I know the first time didn’t go well, but since it’s a few days earlier…”

“You thought right.” Malik wrapped his arms around Bakura’s neck. “It was really damn smooth how you got Isis to be the one to break the ‘family only’ rule so we couldn’t get scolded for ‘undermining’ Isis’s attempt at quality time.” 

“Contrary to popular belief—I’m quite good at manipulation.” 

“Yeah, you really had to twist her arm.” Malik snorted. 

“The point is: it worked and I’m brilliant.” 

“Sure. I’ll give you that. You’re brilliant. Merry Christmas.” 

“You’re such a smart ass.” Bakura grinned against Malik’s lips as they kissed. 

“How else could I tolerate you all day long?” Malik snatched a few more kisses. 

They broke apart before they were caught—as if Isis seeing them exchange real kisses would somehow besmirch their good fake boyfriend titles. Figuring dinner was almost done, Bakura slipped into the kitchen and tossed a steak beneath the broiler. The kitchen was cramped with four people, but Bakura didn’t mind having to sit closer than normal to Malik. The three siblings exchanged stories about their day. Their conversation flowed rapidly and without tension. Bakura set his knife and fork down, in slight awe of the surrealism. 

Somewhere, in the furthest corner of his memory, he remembered his parents eating bread and speaking with the same ease and listening while Bakura rambled about beetles. 

“Are you okay?” Malik slipped his hand over Bakura’s. 

“Of course.” 

Bakura shook his head, tucked the memory away for later, and dug into his steak. He didn’t want to say it out loud, how Malik’s family—even for a moment—had reminded Bakura of his own family. 

After dinner, Isis suggested a particular Christmas movie, so Bakura found it on the internet and played it through Malik’s TV screen. He and Malik reclaimed their spot swaddled together on the couch. Somehow their hands ended twined together beneath the fleece. Malik brushed the pad of his thumb across Bakura’s knuckles. Bakura leaned closer, inhaling the scent of Malik’s shampoo which somehow clung to him despite them not washing their hair that morning. 

Malik graced his lips across Bakura’s forehead. They both grinned at each other. He forgot the others were even in the room until the movie ended and they started talking about it. Bakura yawned. 

“Bakura’s right. It’s pretty late. I think we’re going to bed. Goodnight.” Malik hugged both of them as they exchanged their own goodnights. 

“Night.” Bakura waved. 

“Don’t run away.” Rishid grabbed him and crushed him in a hug. 

Bakura squirmed away only to be attacked by Isis. 

“Bah hum-bug!” Bakura stuck out his tongue before racing into Malik’s bedroom. 

“Wait for me, you dork!” Malik called after him. 

“Hey.” Bakura fidgeted with his hair. 

“Hey.” Malik shut and locked the door. 

“So—” 

Malik stripped Bakura to his boxers and shoved Bakura onto the bed. 

“Hello.” Bakura raised his eyebrows as he watched Malik undress. 

“We survived day one.” Malik rolled his tongue up Bakura’s neck. “I should reward you for your excellent boyfriend acting.” 

“Yeah, I’m the best actor ever.” Bakura’s eyes went half-mast as Malik nibbled against his skin. “And I definitely deserve rewards.” 

“Then lay back, relax, and I’ll make sure you’re rewarded _handsomely_.” Malik locked his eyes on Bakura as he kissed his way down Bakura’s chest. 

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” Bakura muttered as Malik tugged Bakura’s boxers away and kissed his hip bones. 

Bakura fisted the duvet below him. Malik’s tongue flicking at his balls was enough to give Bakura a heart attack. He spread his legs wider and curled his toes. Holding his breath, Bakura arched while Malik’s lips meandered higher. Malik licked his way up Bakura’s shaft, circled his tongue around Bakura’s cockhead, and sealed his lips over the circumference of Bakura’s dick. 

It was so wet, hot, and mind-blowing that Bakura shoved a pillow over his face to muffle the embarrassing squeaks slipping from his mouth. Malik glided to Bakura’s tip and slammed to Bakura’s base. Bakura’s cock brushed the back of Malik’s throat each time he dipped low. The pleasure expanded and burst—Bakura came before he had time to warn Malik or even call out Malik’s name. 

Malik started, but swallowed before pulling away and wiping his mouth. 

“Too good for you to last?” Malik grinned, looking smug and pleased with himself. 

“Think you sucked the bones outta my body.” Bakura exhaled. 

“I’m glad you liked it.” Malik drew circles along Bakura’s pelvis with his fingertip. 

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” Bakura suggested. 

Malik glanced at him with a curious expression, but obeyed without argument. Bakura crawled onto the floor and fit himself between Malik’s thighs. 

“Didn’t want you on your back,” Bakura explained as he grabbed Malik’s base and swirled his tongue around Malik’s cockhead. 

“Goddammit, Bakura.” Malik tilted back, his mouth a wide-O of ecstasy. 

Malik’s body was gorgeous in the lamplight. Bakura slurped Malik’s length into his mouth and bobbed his head, but he kept glancing at Malik as he sucked. Malik hitched into Bakura’s movements. The muscles in his chest stretched tightly. The sight of them thrilled Bakura. 

“ _Oh!_ ” It was a silent gasp, but Malik curled in on himself, ripped at Bakura’s hair, and came almost as quickly as Bakura had. 

Bakura swallowed before resting his head in Malik’s lap. He closed his eyes, tired but giddy. 

“Don’t fall asleep.” Malik shook Bakura’s shoulder. 

“‘M not,” Bakura murmured, but it took all his willpower to crawl onto the bed. 

Malik used Bakura’s chest as a pillow. Bakura didn’t complain. He was more than happy to be pressed beneath Malik as they drifted off together. 


	5. December 21

“Malik, I hate your alarm,” Bakura muttered against the pillow the next morning. 

“I want a go at the shower before anyone else gets to it.” Malik yawned. 

“Ugh, there’s four people and one tiny ass bathroom.” Bakura pushed himself up. “Think I’m going to go to my apartment for a shower and a few more clothes—and bacon. I have bacon in the fridge and I’ll be damned if I’m letting it spoil.” 

“Okay.” Malik teased one of his earrings as he watched Bakura get up. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t leave you undefended from your family.” Bakura pressed his nose to Malik’s. “Shouldn’t be longer than 2 hours.” 

“I’ll survive.” Malik smiled. 

“I’ll miss you,” Bakura whispered. 

Malik’s smile doubled in size. He brushed his lips against Bakura’s. Everything was getting too warm and fuzzy to endure, so Bakura slipped into his clothes and snuck through the living room to leave before anyone saw him— 

“Good morning, Bakura.” Rishid sat in Malik’s EZ chair while reading something on his phone. 

“What’s up, Baldy?” 

“I know Malik enjoys the first shower, so I’m waiting for him to finish.” 

“We shouldn’t spoil him so much. It’s our fault he’s a brat.” Bakura bit his lower lip. 

“I heard you in the kitchen last night. It seemed...fortuitous that you asked Isis about the light festival with Mai so close.” 

“Did she keep you up all night talking about what a _nice_ person Mai is?” 

Rishid offered Bakura a dry smile. 

“She can thank me later.” Bakura shot Rishid with his finger and headed out the door. 

“Where are you going?” Rishid asked. 

“To take a shower at my place.” He scratched the back of his head, sheepish. “Y’know, so Malik can have first dibs here.” 

“You’re right. We do spoil him too much.” Rishid shook his head. 

“Eh, he kinda deserves it.” Bakura dashed away before he said anything else he’d regret. Bakura’s thoughts already spun with memories from the night before. 

As much as he tried to shift to any other topic, Bakura’s brain latched onto the image of Malik’s lips latched around Bakura’s cock. And the _wetness_ , sweet zombie Zorc on a pogo stick, the way Malik’s tongue lashed against Bakura’s burning, eager flesh was miraculous. 

Despite the cold, sweat soaked into Bakura’s clothes by the time he entered his own apartment. He rushed to the shower—to warm himself, he insisted—but once Bakura was naked and beneath the water, his hand went right for his already hard cock. Bakura closed his eyes and imagined Malik pressed against him as his hand shifted up and down. Bakura’s breath left his mouth in heavy puffs. He braced himself against the shower wall and shuffled his hand so fast his bicep ached, but he could neither stop nor slow down. 

“ _Ngh_ fuck,” Bakura swore as everything tightened, his muscles, his balls, his grip on his dick. 

Bakura’s thoughts shifted from memories to new fantasies. His leg’s spread wide with Malik eating his ass with his perfect, wet tongue. The way Bakura’s own body would arch and writhe as he begged Malik for more. 

“Fuck, fuck, ahhh—” Bakura shot come at the drain as he smacked the wall behind him. 

He leaned against the tiles while he caught his breath. Satisfied, Bakura remembered the bacon in his fridge. He hurried in the shower so he could cook himself a bacon and cheese omelet so obscene, he was surprised the gods didn’t appear and damn him on the spot for excess and gluttony. Bakura figured at this point he’d already leveled up to Boyfriend, Level 4, but he was nothing if not a thorough grinder, so he stopped by a store and bought a motorcycle Christmas ornament and a bag of shelled pistachios—Malik’s favorite snack. 

However, when Bakura handed the gifts to Malik, his heart wouldn’t stop racing and his palms wouldn’t stop sweating. 

“They didn’t have one like this at the mall. It’s cute.” Malik spun the front wheel of the toy motorcycle. 

“I know, that’s why I bought it for you.” Bakura shrugged. 

“Thank you.” Malik circled his arms around Bakura’s neck and kissed him. 

Bakura blushed. Had anyone mentioned it he would have called them a liar, but he felt the blood rushing to his face. Malik grinned, noticing. He popped a pistachio into Bakura’s mouth and wandered into the kitchen to store the rest of the bag. 

“Good morning.” Isis walked into the living room, her hair damp from her shower. 

“Morning,” Bakura muttered, distracted. 

“Did you sleep well?” She asked. 

“Despite my many crimes.” Bakura’s nose wrinkled with his grin. 

“You’ve hardly changed.” Isis shook her head and left to find Malik. 

Bakura glanced around, he didn’t see Baldy anywhere and figured they were all in the kitchen. Bakura gave them a solid ten minutes of “family quality time” before busting in to make sure Malik didn't need back up. He found them at the table playing duel monsters. 

“Bakura, would you join us? We can all play with an even number.” Isis asked, having apparently forgotten her earlier annoyance. 

Bakura answered by grabbing a chair and sliding it next to Malik. 

“Why don’t we mix things up? Isis and Malik versus you and me,” Rishid said. 

Bakura narrowed his eyes, wondering what Rishid’s ulterior motives were. He probably hoped Malik and Isis would bond if they dueled together. The concept pissed Bakura off. It was the sort of bullshit Atem would suggest to help two people get along, but a glance at Malik told Bakura Malik was all right with the situation, so Bakura moved his chair. It was a close game, but Malik and Isis won. Yet Bakura couldn’t regret the loss when he saw the way Malik smiled as he chatted with Isis about how well their cards played together. 

The rest of the day was a mix of video games and Christmas movies. Bakura thought December was the worst time of year for a houseful of Ishtars. He could tell they all wanted to go outside, but no one wanted to equip the ten kilograms of winter gear needed to step out for a few minutes. At least not until it was time for Mai and Ryou to show up. 

Ryou and Mai’s faces were rosey from the night air by the time they knocked on Malik’s door. Isis forgot she was also a guest and rushed to greet them, offering them tea, and snacks, and almost tripping over herself as she watched Mai slip out of her coat and reveal her form-fitting sweater. Bakura spat out his tea laughing and excused himself before anyone could ask what he thought was funny. He managed to recover by the time they were ready to leave. 

“Come on, Kura, let’s go.” Malik grabbed his hand. 

Bakura raised an eyebrow at the cutesy nickname, but obviously it was part of their scam, so Bakura hooked his arm with Malik’s and escorted him outside. They took the bus to the park and stood in line to buy tickets. 

“When’s the last time we did this?” Mai asked. 

“First year Malik moved to Domino,” Ryou answered. “We were all excited, but…” Ryou sentence died. 

“What’s wrong?” Isis asked. 

“Nothing. It was just a little too crowded that year and we decided to go home instead,” Ryou lied. 

Bakura nodded as if Ryou’s story was true, but he remembered that year. Malik declared that he wanted to do something fun on his birthday, determined not to let the memories control his life, but Malik had a panic attack and they’d rushed him to the nearest apartment—Bakura’s. Malik wanted to be alone, so Bakura had turned on the lights, shut his bedroom door, and sat on the couch. Even when he heard screaming and broken glass, Bakura sat on the couch and gave Malik as much time as he needed. 

In the morning, a guilty Malik walked into the living room and offered Bakura a steak and egg breakfast as an apology, which Bakura accepted. After that, Malik decided no more birthdays or any other holiday, and everyone knew not to call Malik until Christmas Eve when—if Malik was having a good year—they gathered at Ryou’s for Monster World and horror movies. No people. No crowds. No decorations. Malik didn’t want to think about his father. Ryou didn’t want to think about his mother. Mai...Bakura wasn’t sure what she was avoiding, but he saw it in her eyes. She was as brittle as the rest of them, which was probably why they all got along. 

And maybe their traditions weren’t the magical celebration that Isis wanted for Malik, but they always managed to have a few laughs—which was more than Bakura ever had in his first life. 

“But it’s okay. This year’s better,” Malik promised Ryou. 

“Are you sure?” Rishid asked. “If the crowds bother you we can leave.” 

“No, I...I want to do this. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do…” Malik shrugged. 

“Mistletoe!” Bakura grabbed Malik and tugged beneath it so they could kiss. 

Ryou knelt on one knee and snapped a photo, angling upward so it caught the kiss and the mistletoe all in frame. 

“That turned out really good!” Mai complimented the picture. 

“Send me a copy,” Malik said. 

“C’mon, let’s go see the lights!” Bakura grabbed Malik’s hand and dragged him in front of the rest of the group. 

They walked around the center of the park holding hands most of the time. Every time Bakura glanced over to Malik—his every feature highlighted by an array of rainbow-colored Christmas lights—Bakura’s brain crashed and he had to reboot. Malik’s lilac eyes flicked in his direction, the lights reflecting like an entire universe worth of stars. 

“You okay?” Malik asked. 

“I think I’m falling in love and it’s giving me a heart attack,” Bakura muttered under his breath. 

“Bakura!” Malik cried out, shocked. 

“What did he do? I’ll shove him in a lake.” Isis pulled away from her conversation with Mai in order to shoot a cool stare in Bakura’s direction. 

“Don’t you dare.” Malik wrapped his arms around Bakura. 

“But what did he say to make you scream at him?” Isis frowned. 

“Nothing,” Malik said, trying to cover for Bakura. Surely they couldn’t have the rabbel on the streets knowing Bakura had gone soft. 

“It must have been pretty filthy as much as Bakura’s blushing.” Mai winked. 

But Ryou wore a small, knowing smile. He stood behind everyone else and gave Bakura a thumb’s up. Bakura rolled his eyes. In the side of his vision, Bakura noticed a trellis tunnel filled with white lights and poinsettias. He hooked his arm with Malik’s and jerked him to their right. 

“Stealing Malik—later suckers!” 

Bakura and Malik raced to the tunnel, stopping in the center and grabbing each other’s arms. Their laughter rose from their mouths in a faint fog, and both their noses were rosey from cold. Malik sniffed, the weather making his nose run.

“Were you lying?”

“I am a liar.” Bakura shrugged. 

“But were you lying?” Malik plucked one of the blossoms from the trellis and tucked it behind Bakura’s ear. He teased the ends of Bakura’s long hair, smiling at the way the lights playing off of the white strands. “Did I ever tell you I like your hair long?” 

“ _Heh_ , thanks.” Bakura pressed their foreheads together. “You know I don’t lie to you.” 

“I love you, too,” Malik said. “I thought this week was going to be a disaster, but it’s actually been a lot of fun, partly—mostly—because you’ve been with me.” 

“Of course. It ain’t a party without me.” Bakura grinned. 

“There you are. You shouldn’t run off without us.” Isis lead the others in their search party. 

“I see why you came this way though. It’s beautiful.” Mai spun in a slow circle as she admired the trellises. 

“We better get in line if we want to buy hot chocolate before the train leaves.” Ryou waved them to the other side of the tunnel. 

Malik and Bakura shoved their way to the front of the hot-chocolate line to make sure they paid for all the drinks, but then Isis pulled the same trick with the train tickets. The line stretched a good length and standing in place allowed the chill to seep through their jackets. Bakura kept leaning close to Malik and blowing hot breath against his neck. Each time Malik giggled and elbowed Bakura in the ribs, but it was worth a little elbowing, so Bakura continued to pester him. 

“Finally. The line’s moving.” Mai tossed her empty cup in one of the trash bins lining the walkway. 

“Look. It’s snowing.” Ryou tilted his head. 

Bakura checked the sky. The white clumps fell all around them, collecting on top of their hair and shoulders. Bakura stuck out his tongue, trying to catch stray snowflakes. 

“It’s beautiful.” Isis gasped, removed her gloves, and held out her hands. The snow gathered in her palms, melting shortly after landing. 

“When you go home to Luxor, you’re welcome to take all of it.” Mai brushed the snow from her blond curls. She watched Isis reaching out for more and smiled. “It looks really pretty in your dark hair.” 

“Oh.” Isis giggled. “Thank you.” 

“Good thing Rishid’s wearing a hat. Otherwise he’d be dying of hypothermia by now.” Bakura snickered. 

Rishid glanced up from his phone, but otherwise ignored Bakura’s jab. They boarded the train—Ryou, Mai, and Isis in one seat, Bakura, Malik, and Rishid in another. Once the train lurched forward, the snow swirled around them as they cut through the park in a winding circle. Enormous displays rolled past them. Decorated douglas fir trees scattered across the fields, a mock North Pole nestled between them with a train of reindeer leading a red sleigh. They rode through a candy cane forest, and through a battle between tin soldiers. Bakura rested his head on Malik’s shoulder, half interested in the displays, but fully vested in the feel of Malik beside him. Behind them, Mai, Isis, and Ryou chatted non-stop while Rishid and Malik talked about Duel Monsters, but Bakura was content to zone out and let the snow, wind, and conversations drift over him. Half an hour later their tour was over and they walked to their bus stop. 

“The finale was pretty amazing,” Ryou said. 

“The fireworks were a nice touch,” Malik agreed. 

“I’m glad the crowds weren’t too much for you.” Isis held Malik’s other arm as they walked. 

“Yeah, no big deal. Not sure what was wrong with me the first time.” Malik chuckled to hide his lie. “Maybe we can do this again next year?” 

It had been the 23rd. That what had been wrong with Malik, but no one said anything. 

“Next year I’ll bring a flask so we can spike the cocoa.” Mai grinned. 

“Now you’re talking,” Bakura said. 

“The snow is beautiful, but it’s so cold.” Isis hugged herself, shivering. 

“Here. Mine’s longer than yours.” Mai slipped out of her fur coat and wrapped it over Isis’s shoulders.

“I can’t take your coat.” Isis gasped. 

“It’s not a big deal. I’m used to Domino winters.” Mai said, but her teeth already chattered. 

“It’s very sweet of you to offer.” Isis held open one side of the fur coat. “But why don't we share?” 

“How can I refuse?" Mai fit herself against Isis’s side so the coat could stretch across both of them. 

They sat together on the way home as well. Mai’s exit was first, so she wrapped her coat around her before waving goodbye to everyone. 

“Thank you. I was quite warm.” Isis blushed. 

“Any time.” Mai blew everyone a teasing kiss and excited the bus.

The rest of them shared the same stop, and they walked Ryou to his complex to make sure he got home safely.

"Thanks for inviting us. It was fun." Ryou hooked one arm around Malik and the other around Bakura. Then he did the same for Rishid and Isis. 

"Take care of yourself, Ryou," Isis said.

"You too." He glanced at Malik and Bakura. A sad smile twitched against his lips. "Guess I'll see you for New Year's?" 

"We'll watch Kōhaku and eat mochi until we're sick," Bakura promised.

"Sounds perfect." His smile recovered somewhat before he turned to go.

When they entered Malik's apartment, everyone shed their extra layers and took awkward turns using the bathroom. Rishid served tea and they talked in quiet voices. All the wreaths, garlands, and the tree glowed, giving the living room plenty of ambient light.

"I think I'm going to turn in." Isis hugged and kissed her brothers before vanishing.

"I'm going to bed too." Malik yawned.

"I'm going to read a bit," Rishid said. "Bakura, you won't bother me if you want to play videogames." 

"Are you kidding? He was falling asleep on the train. He wouldn't make it past level one," Malik insisted.

"I could too," Bakura argued for the sake of it, but he had no intentions of staying up when Malik was summoning him to bed. At this point, he figured he’d jumped up to Boyfriend Level 10, and he wanted to see what new skills he’d unlocked. 

"In that case, I will see you both in the morning." Rishid hugged them as well.

Bakura snorted. It reminded him of Ryou a bit, how fearless Rishid was in his affection. 

They barely made it into the room before their fingers were twisted in each other’s hair. Malik rested a hand on Bakura’s chest, and with a deliberate press, shoved Bakura against the wall. As his tongue plunged into Bakura’s mouth, Malik’s finger’s fumbled with Bakura’s zipper. Malik crashed to his knees and wrapped his hand around Bakura’s half-hard cock. His hand worked Bakura’s shaft. Bakura smashed his bottom lip between his teeth, refusing to call out. 

Once hard, Malik dragged his lower lip around Bakura’s cockhead. Bakura’s chest heaved as he gasped. Malik reached out the tip of his tongue. Slowly, he outlined the shape of a heart on Bakura’s cockhead. Heat rushed to Bakura’s face and groin at the same time. His legs couldn’t hold and he dropped into Malik’s arms. Malik’s kisses warmed Bakura’s lips. Malik teased the petals of the poinsettia in Bakura’s hair. 

“Malik,” Bakura groaned as he kissed Malik’s neck. 

“What do you need, my thief?” Malik purred, the rumble of his voice tickling Bakura’s lips as he kissed Malik’s pulse points. 

Bakura pulled back, held Malik’s face, melted like wax against the wick’s flame. He sighed. 

“You.” 

“You can have me.” Malik grabbed Bakura’s hands and kissing his scarred knuckles. 

“What would be comfortable for you?” Bakura whispered, knowing it was too close to Malik’s birthday to even try to rest Malik on his back, or even his stomach as he’d been during his initiation. 

“The bed.” Malik stood and dropped his clothes to the floor. 

Bakura checked the drawer for the lube. It wasn’t there. Glancing around, he saw it peeking from beneath the bed. He tossed his shirt on the floor, fetched the lube, and crawled into Malik’s lap. He passed the bottle to Malik, allowing Malik to take the lead so they stayed within his comfort range. Malik greased their now-hard cocks and stroked them together in his hand. Bakura coiled his fingers around them as well, gasping. Their kisses were half-missed attempts as Bakura rutted in Malik’s lap. Malik nipped Bakura’s lower jaw and licked along his throat. 

“It’s nice...to feel good for a change.” Malik exhaled, relaxing even as his strokes grew wanton. 

“Gods you drive me crazy,” Bakura growled in Malik’s ear. “I want to come screaming your name.” 

“Show me how much you want me,” Malik commanded. 

Bakura braced his hands on top of Malik’s knees and bucked into Malik’s hand. Their dicks rubbed together, hot and slick with lubricant. A repressed whine half-escaped Bakura’s throat. He slammed his cock into Malik’s clenched fist. Bakura kept his volume low, but his voice was dark and husky as his orgasm crescendoed within him. 

“Malik...Malik...Malik...yes...yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes-yes-yes-oh-fucking gods—”

“Bakura, I’m coming.” Malik sucked in a breath and held it as he poured over both their cocks. 

Bakura came with him, his entire body dissolving into Malik’s touch. Afterward they cleaned up and tangled beneath the covers, holding each other. 

“I have to sleep on my side.” Malik clenched his teeth, angry that he couldn’t half lay on Bakura. 

“Here.” Bakura turned away from Malik but pressed his back against Malik’s chest. “This better?” 

“Yeah.” Malik kissed the nape of Bakura’s neck. “This is better than I expected.” 


	6. December 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooner or later you experience grief in your life. And while we can't be sad all the time, I think it's really important to take a few days when you need them to let yourself feel what you feel.

Bakura jerked upright when Malik’s sobs woke him. He brushed the hair from Malik’s face, used the sheet to dry Malik’s cheeks, but didn’t ask what was wrong. Eventually, Malik calmed enough to speak. 

“I can’t do it today. I can’t.” He shook his head. “Yesterday was fine. I thought it’d be fine, but today is like the first train ride all over again. I can’t breathe when I think about going out there. Bakura, what am I going to do? I don’t want Isis to see me like this. Why can’t they let me sleep and hide until I’m ready?” 

“I’m sorry you caught a cold on the train last night.” Bakura kissed Malik’s forehead. “I’ll run to the store and buy some juice and miso soup. I’m sure when Isis hears she’ll want to check on you, but she wouldn’t keep you awake when you’re sick and want to rest, would she?” Bakura stroked Malik’s bangs out of this face. “So sleep all day. I’m sure you’ll feel better in time for Christmas Eve.” 

Malik glanced at Bakura, his face wide-eyed and tear-swollen. He locked his fingers with Bakura’s.

“You beautiful fucking liar. Thanks...Bakura, thanks.” 

“What are boyfriends for?” Bakura winked at Malik before tucking the covers to Malik’s chin, dressing, and sneaking out of the apartment once again. 

He returned with all the groceries he needed. 

“Is everything all right? Malik’s usually in the shower by now.” Rishid asked.

Bakura noticed the circles beneath Baldy’s eyes. He wondered if Rishid often couldn’t sleep during the same days Malik did nothing but, as if they were balancing each other out somehow. 

“Malik caught a cold,” Bakura said. “I bought soup. Want to cook it for me? I’d probably burn it.” 

Rishid nodded, busying himself in the kitchen. Though Rishid made tea, Bakura brewed a pot of coffee, fidgeting with a spoon as he drank from his mug. 

“Is everything all right?” Isis asked when she entered the kitchen. 

“Malik caught a cold and a bit of a sore throat last night in the snow. I have some juice if you want to bring it to him and check on him.” Bakura poured a glass of juice and handed it to Isis. 

“Thank you. I will.” Isis nodded and left. 

“You’re really good at manipulating people,” Rishid said once they were alone. 

“No clue what you mean,” Bakura said. 

“I used to make excuses for Malik, too,” Rishid said. 

“He doesn’t feel well. It’s the truth,” Bakura said. 

And it was the truth. He might not be fooling Rishid with his cold and sore throat excuse, but it was still the truth. 

“Thank you, Bakura.” Rishid laddled broth into a bowl and left to check on Malik. 

Bakura sighed. He didn’t want to spend the day entertaining Malik’s siblings, but it’s exactly what he did. In order to give Malik time alone, Bakura took Isis and Rishid to the game shop to visit Yugi for a few hours. Treated them to sushi for lunch. Bought some _hanetsuki_ paddles and taught them the old game Ryou still enjoyed for New Year's, and even introduced them to _karuta_. 

Rishid was easy to get along with, but Isis was slower going. That evening, Malik made an appearance—in silk pajamas and with a silk sheet wrapped around him like a shawl. 

“What are you doing?” Malik asked. 

“Playing cards. What else would a bunch of duelists do when they’re snowed inside?” Bakura laughed. 

“Sorry we couldn’t do anything today.” Malik looked away. His hair was unbrushed, his face wore no kohl, and he didn’t even have his earrings on, yet somehow he stole all Bakura’s breath and made Bakura feel as if there were no ground to support him. 

“We’re sorry you weren’t able to join us, but we’ve had a busy day.” Rishid explain everything they’d done.

As he spoke, Malik transfixed his gaze on Bakura. Bakura scratched the back of his head, unable to bear the intensity in Malik’s stare. 

“Figured I’ve leveled up to at least 12 on the Boyfriend skill tree, right?” Bakura forced himself to laugh. 

“Almost 13,” Malik said, his voice thick. 

He curled on the couch beside Bakura, clinging to him. 

“Think you can manage to eat something?” Rishid asked. “There’s a little kushari left.” 

Malik nodded and Rishid went to warm it for his little brother. Isis reached over Bakura and squeezed Malik’s hand. 

“Is there anything I can do for you?” She asked. 

“I’m good,” Malik’s voice cracked and his eyes gleamed. 

“Why don’t you light the candles,” Bakura said. “Might as well make it smell like a gingerbread factory dumped its load right in the middle of our living room.” 

Isis scowled at Bakura’s wording, but did circle around and light the candles. She also turned on a lamp in the corner. The extra light soothed Malik somewhere, though he still curled in a ball in Bakura’s lap until Rishid returned with the kushari. 

“Thank you.” Malik accepted the bowl. He ate slowly, but finished the food before curling next to Bakura again. 

After their game, Bakura stretched and heaved a convenient yawn. “I’m beat.” 

“Yes. Perhaps it’s best if we all turn in early today.” Isis stooped and kissed the crown of Malik’s head, smoothing his unbrushed hair. “I hope you feel better tomorrow, brother.” 

“Thanks, Isis.” Malik smiled, a big Namu smile. 

Rishid lingered a moment before speaking in a low voice. 

“Is there anything I can do?” 

“This...isn’t your fault,” Malik spoke with a broken voice. “This isn’t because you failed in any way. Can you understand that for me?” 

“Intellectually,” Rishid said. 

“Yeah, it’s harder to feel it’s true, isn’t it?” Malik stood, but turned and gave Rishid a quick, but strong, hug. “I’ll feel better in a few days.” 

“I know.” Rishid nodded. 

Bakura left the room, waiting for Malik beneath the covers and already on his side to play little spoon. Malik fit against him like a zipper folding into itself. They didn’t speak. They didn't half to. Malik held Bakura and trembled. Bakura caressed Malik’s knuckles, and when he sobbed in his sleep and whimpered, Bakura slipped the shirt from Malik’s torso, and blew against his scars to cool them until Malik settled back into less turbulent dreams. Bakura, however, sat on the edge of the bed, watching Malik’s eyelashes flutter. By the time the sky grayed, Bakura was in the kitchen with half a pot of coffee chugged and a traditional breakfast of rice, tofu, fish, and umeboshi prepared. Rishid and Isis both finished off the coffee though they usually drank tea. They gazed at the spread on the table as if Bakura had a tail. He sat in his usual chair and rubbed his face.

“We need to talk,” Bakura said. 


	7. December 23, Malik's Birthday

“You’re not stupid. You know Malik doesn’t have a cold.” Bakura pulled at the air with his fingers, as if he could somehow summon the right words with a gesture. “You have to realize how much Malik loves you both. How he’d put on a happy face for you even if he were ankle-deep in a bed of hot coals because he can’t stand the thought of upsetting either of you. There’s still some lingering guilt from his Ghoul days, and he tries to atone by making sure you’re both happy—but it takes too much energy. Malik doesn’t have any to give right now.”

Isis hid her face in her hands, shaking from her sobs. Rishid rubbed circles into her lower back. His eyes gleamed, but he didn’t shed his tears.

“Doesn’t take a psychiatrist to figure out you’re playing the same game. You didn’t save him and now you gotta put on smiles and shower him with presents and act like everything’s great, but it isn’t. Not today. So this is what we’re going to do: December 23 is the day we let Malik be sad. We’re going to unplug the tree, turn on all the other lights, and be quiet and let Malik sleep. He’ll come to us when he’s ready.”

Bakura waited, wondering how they’d react to what he said.

“Everything I do is wrong,” Isis’s sobs hitched in her throat as she spoke. “How do I make him happy?”

“That’s what I’m trying to explain. You don’t. Not today.” Bakura shook his head.

“This sucks.” Isis used a napkin to dry her eyes.

Bakura almost laughed. The phrase was so wrong coming from Isis’s mouth, but he agreed. It sucked. Every fiber of his being screamed to _fight the problem_. He hated seeing Malik struggle as much as Rishid and Isis hated it, but it was what Malik needed, so it was what Bakura would let him have.

“I feel like there must be some condolence, no matter how small, we can offer him,” Rishid insisted.

Bakura mulled it over. All their past Decembers forming patterns in his mind. He, Mai, Ryou, and Malik all avoiding their thoughts with horror movies and Monster World until New Year’s came and they threw a party as if to celebrate the shedding of another year the way a snake celebrates shedding old skin.

“Invite Ryou and Mai to Christmas. Malik was pretty upset when you told him you wanted the holidays to be family only.” Bakura gestured to Rishid. “Ishtars more than anyone should understand that found family is real family, and Ryou lost his mother too. I think it’s comforting for Malik, to be around people who understand.” Bakura glanced at them and shrugged. “I think understanding his grief is all he needs today.”

“Of course they can spend Christmas with us.” Isis shook her head. “I never wanted to exclude anyone, I just thought…” She shook her head. “I’m not sure what I was thinking, but I’d be happy for them to join us.”

“We should buy them gifts,” Rishid said.

In Bakura’s sleep deprived thoughts, the Big Surprise song kept playing on loop. Rishid’s mention of gifts triggered an entire verse to replay until Bakura wanted to slam his head against the table. Instead, he smacked the table.

“Bakura?” They asked.

“I have an idea. Hurry up and eat breakfast so we can go shopping, there’s something else I want to get Malik.”

***

No amount of waterboarding, impalement, being stretched on the rack, or other torture would ever get Bakura to admit how much _fun_ he had shopping with Malik’s siblings. Their weird solemn talk seemed to cut some invisible cord between them, and Isis chatted more freely than usual while they tried to guess which fur-lined boots Mai would prefer as a gift. Card games alone gave Bakura plenty to talk about with both Rishid and Isis, but the Malik baby stories were a nice bonus. In return, Bakura allowed some of Malik’s real preferences slip into their conversations. He told Isis they should visit during cherry blossom season and summer since Malik would enjoy their company when the weather allowed them to go outside. He also mentioned that Mai was single and just on the barely-bi side of hoplessly gay.

When they returned home, Bakura and Isis wrapped the new presents while Rishid cooked a fresh batch of kushari for Malik. He also made halva with extra pistachios. Bakura dragged a length of ribbon along the floor and Malik’s birthday present—a not-at-all-wooden cat with yellow green eyes (yellow green eyes)—attacked her prey with a viciousness which would surely make Malik proud.

“Are you all...laughing?” Malik peaked his head from the corner separating the living room from the hallway.

HIs hair was unruly enough to be reminiscent of his other half and shadows clung below his eyes, but he was so gorgeious that Bakura wanted to attack him and kiss his fucking face off. And not gorgeous in a bedroom way—gorgeous in a “Bakura wanted to cling to him for the rest of their lives” sort of way.

“Are we being too loud?” Isis set down the scissors as she finished adding ribbons to the last additional present.

“No, but I wasn’t expecting to hear...Bakura.” Malik’s lips curved upward. “You dork, did you get me a Blinky for my birthday?”

“I could name her Schrodinger, put her in a box, and make you wait until Christmas.” Bakura offered Malik the length of ribbon. Blinky continued to bat at it while Bakura waited to see what Malik would do.

“You even gave her a blue bow.” Malik sat beside Bakura, stole the string, and dangled it.

Bakura held Malik’s hand, showing him how to drag it along the carpet to make the kitten more interested in catching it. He rested his head against Malik’s.

“Figured this way, even when you need to be alone, you have someone to snuggle.”

“I don’t know if I want to kiss you or strangle you with this ribbon.”

“You’re acting like you don’t feel that way about me every day?” Bakura snorted.

“True.” A slim smile reached Malik’s face. He glanced at the kitchen. “Smells great in here.”

“We didn’t know if you’d be hungry or not, so we tried to plan for everything,” Isis said. “Rishid should be finished at any moment.”

“Did you guys go shopping? I see more presents.”

“Yes.” Isis lowered herself onto the carpet in front of Malik. Her skirt pooled beneath her. “Bakura explained how you usually spend the end of the year with your friends, so—when you’re ready—we’ll invite them over.”

“We don’t have to.” Malik focused on the kitten and not his sister.

“They’re wonderful friends. They should be here,” Isis replied.

“Ryou always grieves this time of year, too. It’s nice...to have someone nearby who understands what you’re going through.”

“Malik, _I_ understand.” Isis reached over and rested her hand on top of Malik’s left hand.

“I know you try to see the best in everything, and—”

“ _Malik. I understand_ ,” Isis repeated with more emphasis. A tear rolled down her cheek. “I was only four, but I remember Rishid holding my hand, and leading me to Mother so she could say goodbye to us. She wanted us to look after you.” Isis shrugged. “Those were her last words. Take care of Malik.”

Malik jerked his head, eyes locked on his sister. Bakura lifted the kitten and rested her against his chest so she didn’t disrupt the conversation.

“You’ve never talked about this before,” Malik said.

“Because I thought it’d make you sad, but now I realize that not talking about it made you lonely. I’m sorry.” Isis sighed, pressing her hands to her heart. “On your first birthday, after all the rituals and blessings, they gave you to us—Rishid and I—with a canister of dried formula and and stack of changing clothes, and left. I looked at you, and realized you’d never get to meet Mother, and I cried. I couldn’t stop crying. I was so sad.” Tears rolled down Isis’s cheeks. “Rishid was the one who figured out how to mix the formula and fed you.”

“He hasn’t changed much.” Malik wiped the tears off his face, glancing at the kitchen where Rishid prepared supper.

“I want you to know, if you ever want to talk about her, or the initiation, or...or Father...don’t hold back. Even if the conversation will hurt.” Isis used a tissue to dab at her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to cry.” Malik sniffed.

“If this is what you need, then Rishid and I will gladly share our grief with you. In the end, that we’re together as a family is what matters to me.”

As Malik and Isis embraced, Bakura set the kitten beside Malik and snuck into the kitchen.

“Did I hear Malik in the living room?” Rishid stirred the food in the skillet.

“Yes, and I think he’s going to want dinner.” Bakura leaned against the fridge.

“Here.” Rishid handed Bakura a plate. “I cooked enough fattah for you to survive through the rest of our visit.”

Bakura held the plate—toasted bread, rice, tomato sauce, and shanks of veal practically falling off their bones. The powerful scent of garlic made Bakura’s mouth water.

“Have I ever told you how you’re my favorite Ishtar?” Bakura smirked.

“You’re lying, but thank you.” Rishid nodded.

Bakura sat at the table with his plate, but waited for Malik and Isis to join them before he took a bite.

“Thanks for making my favorite dinner for my birthday.” Malik roped his arms around Rishid.

“Enjoy it,” Rishid said.

As they ate, Rishid and Isis did most of the talking, describing the last two days to Malik. A smile spread across Malik’s face. He kept glancing in Bakura’s direction as he listened. Toward the end of the meal as they drank coffee and snacked on the halva, Isis asked Malik if there was anything he wanted to do as a Christmas tradition.

“I’ve heard of people having ugly Christmas sweater parties, and it sounds like it’d be really ironic and fun to do,” Malik said.

“I have the perfect sweater!” Bakura smacked his hands on the table.

“Why am I not surprised?” Malik snorted.

“I’ll have to swing by my place and get it, but tomorrow night? Hell yeah, prepare to go blind.”

“If you guys want to watch a few movies before we go to bed…” Malik hugged himself. “I think I have enough energy for that.”

“Any specific ones you want to watch?” Rishid asked.

“Let Bakura pick them. He finds the weirdest ones.”

“You know that’s 100% Ryou’s fault.” Bakura snorted, stacking the plates to make it a little easier for Isis who usually cleaned up since Rishid cooked.

In the living room, Bakura grabbed their fleece blanket and displayed it like a matador teasing a bull.

“Behold! I have found the mantle of immortality!”

“You dork.” Malik snorted.

“Don’t worry.” Bakura pulled Malik to the sofa and tucked them both within the blanket. “I intend to share it.”

“Such a nerd.” Malik rubbed their noses together.

Blinky cried, too insecure to climb onto the couch on her own. Malik scooped her up and settled her in his lap. He scratched behind her ear as she kneaded the blanket with her claws. Malik fell asleep halfway into the first movie, but Bakura didn’t have the heart to move and wake him, so he slipped from beneath Malik and tried to wedge his arms below Malik to lift him up and carry him to bed.

“I got it.” Rishid stepped in, scooped Malik up as easily as holding a loaf of bread, and padded down the hallway without so much has getting winded.

“I could have done it.” Bakura crossed his arms over his chest and walked behind the bald brickhouse.

“I’m used to it.” Rishid lay Malik onto the bed and pulled the covers to his chin.

Bakura noticed the lube, which always ended on the floor somehow, and kicked it beneath the bed before anyone saw it. With a grin, he waved goodnight to Rishid before slipping beside Malik. Malik rolled over in his sleep, slinging his arm around Bakura.

Malik did not have nightmares, and in the morning he woke before Bakura, took a shower, and cooked ful for everyone’s breakfast. Bakura ate more fattah.


	8. December 24, Christmas Eve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is having a lovely night regardless of what holiday you are or are not celebraiting <3

“Bakura, will you help me with my outfit?” Malik asked as Bakura wiggled into his sweater.

“Sure, need me to zip something up?”

“Stick these on me with modeling tape.” Malik handed two golden bows to Bakura.

“O...kay. Shouldn’t this go over the sweater?” Bakura covered Malik’s nipples with the decorations.

“What sweater?” Malik smirked.

“I thought you said this was an _ugly sweater_ party?” Bakura’s jaw dropped.

“Or Christmas costumes in general. Isis found a dress like looks like a Christmas tree with needles and lights and candy canes you can actually pull off and eat.” Malik smoothed his hands down his side. “Besides, I look good enough to pull this off.”

“I’d sure like to pull it off. This is going to be a long...hard...night to get through.” Bakura groaned as Malik slipped into something that was basically a speedo designed to look like Christmas wrapping paper.

“What’s the matter? Thinking about opening your present already?”

“Yes, I definitely know what package I want to get for Christmas this year.”

Bakura slipped into thigh high socks stripped to look like candy canes with a matching thong. He added a pair of green booty shorts—yeah, perhaps he was no better than Malik from the waist down, but at least he wore a sweater!

“You’re blinking.” Malik laughed.

“Motion sensor LEDs.” Bakura tugged at his sweater to make the lights flash again.

“I love it.” Malik yanked Bakura closer, admiring him.

The sweater was a knitted monstrosity with Santa riding a motorcycle with working headlights on the front. The Santa also carried a lance and had a helmet. Christmas Knight was printed in large red letters above Santa’s head. Smaller lights glittered all over the sweater like stars.

“Check out the back.” Bakura spun around.

“Oh what fun it is to ride.” Malik doubled over laughing. He grabbed Bakura’s ass and pressed their chests together, smashing his bows a bit. “Is that how you’re going to enjoy my package tonight?”

“The question is—with or without the sweater?’ Bakura winked.

“Oh, you’re leaving that on.” Malik laughed.

“The hat too?”

“Hat?” Malik asked.

Bakura slipped a crocheted knight’s helm over his head. He pulled his white ponytail out of a hole on the top. It looked like a plume waving behind him.

“I can’t breathe!” Malik dropped to the bed and laughed. His hair scattered around his head like a golden halo.

“You’re just jealous that I didn’t have to cheat to look sexy for the party.” Bakura straddled Malik, gazing at him with a hungry stare.

“Don’t you dare get me hard up before this party. Any awkwardness you give me, I will pay you double.” Malik bucked against Bakura’s crotch.

“Your ruthlessness is what drew me to you from the beginning.” Bakura pushed up the face shield of his helmet to pluck a kiss from Malik.

“Yeah? I thought it was my rod.”

“That too.” Bakura forced himself off of Malik’s crotch before they were late for the party.

“Malik, that isn’t a sweater,” Isis said when she saw her baby brother sautering half-naked into the living room.

“You’re not wearing a sweater, either.” Malik tossed a toy mouse down the hall.

Blinky zoomed from beneath the couch in chase of the flying object. She crashed into the toy and bunny-kicked it with her back feet while gnawing at it. Isis smoothed her hand down her dress. The myriad tassels did resemble pine needles. Bakura was a little amazed at how Isis made something so tacky seem elegant. Obviously an Ishtar trait—they were those sort of jerks who made potato sacks seem fashionable.

“I suppose it’s not much less than what you normally wear.” Isis sighed and disappeared into the kitchen.

“I think it’s missing something.” Bakura stole a bit of garland off of their tree. He fashioned a circlet and placed it on top of Malik’s head like a crown.

“Is this my halo?” Malik batted his eyelashes.

“You’re the star leading all the wise-asses to baby Horus’s manager.” Bakura winked.

“Don’t you mean wise men?”

“It’s me, Mai, and Ryou, so…”

“You’re right. Definitely wise-asses. Speaking of—there’s the doorbell.” Malik answered the door and Mai pointed an accusing finger at him.

"Ha! I knew you weren't going to wear an ugly sweater!"

"Did you?" Malik smirked.

"Of course not." Mai dropped her fur coat and revealed a Mrs. Claus mini dress which looked more like a nightgown than a ball gown.

"Nice." Malik hi-five'd Mai, her breasts jiggling like a female character in a Capcom fighting game.

"Malik, you're practically naked." Ryou hid his face.

"Ryou, please tell me you actually wore a sweater." Bakura crossed his arms over his chest.

"I wore the best sweater!" Ryou peeled away his scarf, mittens, and coat to show off his sweater.

It was a North Pole scene gone horribly wrong. Santa's ax-wielding silhouette overimposed itself over the toy crafting workbenches. Blood splattered over the toys and the plate of cookies near the fireplace. Severed limbs—both elf and reindeer—scattered across the room. Ryou had sewn additional limbs hanging from the sweater. It was hideous; Bakura was proud.

"Santa's Sleigh Ride Slaughter 7!" Malik cheered. "I remember we marathoned all of them last year."

"Yes. I'm so happy you remembered." Ryou clapped.

"I'm happy you wore an actual sweater." Bakura smacked a reindeer leg.

"Remind me to stay away from Ryou tonight," Rishid said, a tray of cocoa in his hands.

Rishid’s sweater was covered in ridiculous cartoon reindeer. He finished the assemble with fake antlers on his head and a collar covered in bells.

“Ooops.” Ryou smiled.

“Didn’t a reindeer impale Santa in the 5th movie of the series? You’re probably fine, Baldy.” Bakura patted Rishid’s back and stole one of the cups. Marshmallows bobbed on the surface, and steam circled around the rim.

“Thank you.” Ryou bowed before taking one of the mugs.

“Oh...Mai…”

Perhaps Isis said “oh my” but Bakura specifically heard it as “oh Mai.” Isis’s eyes were round as she took in the plunging neckline and short, flared skirt, all fur trimmed and swaying with each shift of mai’s hips.

“You’re so cute.” Mai winked at Isis. “Clearly most Ishtars don’t like to follow the rules.”

“Rishid and Ryou are the only people in this room I respect,” Bakura said.

“I—I follow the rules,” Isis stuttered, not realizing Mai said it as a compliment. “This was the most ridiculous outfit I could find.”

“It’s charming on you.” Mai plucked one of the candy canes from Isis’s dress and made a show of popping it into her mouth.

“Anyway, weren’t there some stupid games we were supposed to play?” Bakura pulled Malik to the sofa and wrapped him in their favorite blanket.

“You wouldn’t think games were stupid if you didn’t _lose_ them all the time.” Malik stuck his tongue out at Bakura.

“We’re going to play two truths and a lie.” Rishid grabbed a pile of Christmas stationary and pens and passed them around the group.

“I’m going to be spectacular at this game!” Bakura bragged.

“It’s easy to tell when you’re lying.” Isis sat in Malik’s E-Z chair. “You show it all over your face.”

“We’ll see.” Bakura sang.

“Mai, would you like the other chair?” Rishid offered.

“You can have it. You don’t mind, do you Isis? I’m going to sit right here.” Mai dropped onto the arm of Isis’s chair, brushing some curls over her shoulder.

“Yes—I mean no! You’re welcome to sit with me as long as you like!” Isis flushed.

“Thanks.” Mai stole a second candy cane from Isis’s dress.

“Done!” Malik and Bakura slammed their papers down at the same time. Bakura glared at Malik. “I said it first.”

“No you didn’t. I totally beat you.” Malik scoffed and folded his paper in half.

“You tied.” Ryou shook his head.

“No, I won,” Bakura insisted.

“Malik, why don’t you start,” Rishid said to deter the budding argument.

“First one’s a throw away—I love motorcycles.”

“Yeah, I think we all know that one’s a truth.” Mai laughed.

“So you have to choose between the last two. Is it true that I saw a Marx Groucho movie after escaping the tomb and later sent Ghouls to Egypt to sneak novelty store mustache-glasses combos onto several mummies hidden in various tombs, or—” Malik flicked his gaze at Bakura. “Am I single?”

“That was you!” Isis jumped to her feet with her hands balled into fists at her sides. “You little brat! I thought my associates were playing a practical joke!”

“You’re not very good at this game.” Mai shook his head. “It was obvious which one you wanted us to choose.”

“Marx Groucho glasses—Malik, I love you.” Bakura clutched his heart which was beating too fast. Bakura tugged the knight’s helm away from his face, fanning himself. “Damn thing is hot.”

“Is it?” Malik asked with a knowing grin. “Are you sure you’re not simply flushed?”

“I’m going next.” Bakura ignored Malik’s statement and held is list in both hands so no one noticed he was shaking. “Am I wearing underwear?”

“Probably not.” Ryou sipped his mug of cocoa.

“Single—”

“You two are terrible.” Isis sighed, but Malik giggled.

Not only did he giggle, but he wrapped the blanket more snugly around the two of them, burying himself closer to Bakura’s side. Bakura couldn’t remember ever seeing Malik so red-faced and giddy before. It was contagious and Bakura found himself giggling too. He gave Malik a soft elbow to the side to tell him to calm down, but Malik only slapped Bakura’s elbow away and laughed harder than before.

“Malik, stop. I’m trying to play a serious game.” Bakura snickered, knowing his face was as red as Malik’s by the heat pooling in his cheeks.

“No. Shut-up. Dammit, Bakura, this is all your fault. It wasn’t supposed to work like this.” Malik hid his red face against Bakura’s arm.

“My fault—this entire thing was your fault. It’s all your grand idea, but I’m getting the blame?”

“I’m going to strangle you with Christmas garland.”

“Kinky.”

Mai and Ryou exchanged shocked glances, and then turned toward Malik and Bakura.

“I had a feeling.” Ryou smiled.

“Is there a joke we’re not getting?” Isis asked.

“Yes. It’s them. Malik and Bakura are the joke.”

“Shut-up, Mai!” They both snapped at the same time.

“Anyway!” Bakura tried to steer the topic away from their (seemingly out of nowhere) giggle fit, and back to the game. “Is it truth or a lie that there is a cave in Egypt near Akhenamkhanen’s tomb filled with clay tablets my uncle drew of what’s esstentially a saterical erotic comic series between him and Akhenamkhanen’s wife.”

Malik burst into a fresh round of laughter.

“Of _course_ that was your uncle!” Isis shouted. “Archaeologists suspected it was one of the tomb builders who decorated her tomb, so I’m not surprised that it would be _your direct family_ who had such blatant disrespect!”

“Can’t eat respect, I’m afraid.” Bakura shrugged. “And once the Pharaoh stopped paying the workers...the respect emptied with our bellies.”

Isis crossed her arms over her chest, snorting.

“You _do_ realize, in this fictional world of your uncle’s, he’s sleeping with Atem’s mom, which would make him Atem’s father, which would make Atem _your_ cousin—”

“Ryou, please. We all know having sex with women is imaginary. No one actually does it.” Bakura waved Ryou’s statement away.

Rishid sputtered on his coca.

“Hmm...think we might have a hung jury on that debate.” Mai gave Isis a wink as she spoke.

“Will someone else please go before this game gets anymore out of control.” Isis blushed.

“Wait, does this mean Bakura’s actually wearing underwear?” Rishid grinned.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Bakura smirked.

“They’re candy striped.” Malik laughed.

“No fair to tell. Now everyone should have to describe their underwear.” Bakura huffed in mock outrage.

“Am I working on a PH.D. in Classical Language.” Isis stood with her list in her hands. Mai casually checked out Isis’s ass while she read her list, probably thinking about what underwear she may or may not be wearing. “Have a driver’s license. Or have I participated in undercover operations around the globe to recover Egyptian artifacts from the black market?”

“Don't answer, Rishid,” Malik said. Rishid nodded in agreement.

“You can’t drive. No Ishtar can drive.” Bakura snorted.

“Excuse me?” Malik and Rishid said in union.

“Okay, I’m sorry—Rishid can drive.”

“Wow, did you really run around the world collecting Egyptian artifacts?” Mai asked.

“Um...yes. That one is true.”

“That’s amazing. My list sucks compared to everyone else’s.” Mai laughed.

“If you’d like…” Isis toyed with the tassels on her dress. “I could tell you about the artifacts we’ve retrieved some time.”

“Mmm...sounds like a long conversation. Perhaps it’d best be discussed over dinner and wine?” Mai licked her lips.

“My last night in Domino is the 26th, if you’re free?”

“I am absolutely free.” Mai smiled.

“We’re holding up the game, aren’t we?” Isis dropped into her seat. “Who’s next?”

“Ugh, let me go since my list is pathetic.” Mai groaned. “Which one is the lie? That I love pasta, own a motorcycle, or dye my hair?”

“Do you dye your hair?” Bakura asked.

“No, you fool, that’s clearly the lie.” Malik rolled his eyes.

“Malik, I was still trying to guess,” Isis said.

“Oh, sorry, I just don’t believe Bakura got it wrong? You’ve literally heard me talk about riding with Mai.”

“I didn’t equate that to her having a bike. You could have been on the same bike?”

“Well, at least he knew better than to say she didn’t like pasta.” Ryou chuckled. “Because that one was too obvious.”

“Yeah, that’s as obvious as Ryou eating sweets,” Bakura agreed.

“How convenient, now we know what to eat for dinner during our date—I mean, our conversation. Our dinner? Our—”

“Date.” Mai grabbed Isis’s hand and kissed it.

“O-okay. Okay.” Isis’s smile consumed her face. “Yes. Well, um...who’s next?”

“You can go,” Ryou and Rishid said at once.

“After you, please.” Ryou bowed

“No, it’s fine. You can go,” Rishid insisted.

“Birthday Jesus, you’re both too polite. Ryou, just go before we miss Christmas trying to play this game.” Bakura rolled his eyes.

“Which one is the lie.” Ryou smiled in a way that would make it impossible for anyone to guess the correct answer by looking at his facial expression. “That I own 1,000 horror movies, that I have an original Black Lotus card for Magic The Gathering, or that I have a Tiamat Monster World figurine worth 50,000 yen.”

“The Magic card,” Malik said.

“Yes, I agree.” Isis nodded. Rishid nodded with her.

Mai, however, pursed her lips. “You have all of those, so what’s the trick?”

“The trick is the Tiamat figurine is only worth 20,000 yen. I win the game!” Bakura tossed his hands in the air.

“We’re not keeping score and Rishid hasn’t gone yet.” Malik pulled Bakura’s arms down to his sides.

“I _knew_ you had both the card and figurine.” Mai snorted. “You play dirty, Ryou.”

“Not dirty enough, Bakura saw through my trick.”

“Who do you think taught you how to lie?” Bakura bragged.

Malik pursed his lips. “Wait, I think I’ve heard of that card when I ran the Ghouls. Isn’t the Black Lotus worth—”

“Oh yeah.” Bakura snickered. “It sure is.”

“Unfortunately, everyone got into Duel Monsters instead, so I had no one to play Magic the Gathering with, but I kept all my old cards because the artwork is so pretty.” Ryou shrugged. “I figured one day I’ll have to pawn it for bail money for Malik and Bakura.”

Isis and Rishid laughed so hard they snorted.

“When it happens I’ll pay you back.” Malik dismissed Ryou’s statement with a wave of his hand.

“Rishid, best for last.” Bakura shot at him.

“Wow, Bakura, that was a nice thing to say.” Isis gave him a surprised look.

“I’ve made it clear I only respect the people here tonight _wearing sweaters_.”

“Shhh.” Malik pressed a finger to Bakura’s lips. “Stop talking between every round.”

Bakura glared at Malik, but mostly because the finger against Bakura’s lips sent electricity through his every nerve. Rishid ruffled the slip of paper in his hands a bit before reading.

“I’d like to have children,” Rishid said. “I have three separate partners who I may start families with one day. I don’t know when my birthday is.”

“After raising Malik, there’s no way you’d want kids of your own.” Bakura shook his head.

“Hey!” Malik glared at Bakura, but it was more flirty than angry.

“Yeah, I guess that’s my answer too.” Mai shrugged.

“Forget both of you. And furthermore—are you really dating _three_ people? And you didn’t even tell me?” Malik turned his gaze from Bakura to Rishid.

“You didn’t tell us you were dating Bakura,” Isis said.

“That’s different.” Malik shook his head.

“How is it different?”

Bakura could have answered, _we weren’t officially dating until this game_ , but for obvious reasons he didn’t. Instead it dawned on him what Rishid’s true lie was.

“Hold up.” Bakura untangled himself from his and Malik’s blanket and paced. “Hold the fuck up. Are you telling me we’ve been doing all this garbage because you wanted to make an unofficial big deal about Malik’s birthday, but none of you even know when Rishid’s birthday is?”

“I was...found,” Rishid said.

“So what?”

“So...no one knows when I was born?” Rishid upturned his tone, making the statement sound like a question.

“So what?” Bakura repeated. “Why don’t you just pick a day to celebrate?”

“I...never…”

“It’s like every so often your bad plans go full loop into utter genius.” Malik clapped his hands. “Rishid, just pick any day you want. I’d have a lot more fun celebrating your birthday than mine!”

“May 1st?”

“That’s great! If you guys come visit in May we can go sailing, and see the shows at the aquarium, and maybe go to the mountains, and the park, and the zoo, and—”

“Ryou, I’m going to need to borrow your Game Boy.” Bakura scratched the back of his head. “This sounds like more outdoors than I want in my modern, non-ancient-egyptian life.”

“I’ll be sure to pack extra batteries.” Ryou laughed.

***

They played a few more rounds, then switched to board games, and finally every Christmas movie Ryou could remember watching as a kid—the stop animation ones, not the Santa’s Sleigh Ride Slaughter series. When everyone hid yawns behind their hands, Rishid offered to take the couch so Ryou could take one of the guest beds while Mai and Isis shared the other. Mai changed into a nighty that looked almost the same as her dress, and Isis looked 3 beats per minute away from a massive heart attack. Bakura laughed all the way to Malik’s bedroom.

Malik ignored him as he found a Christmas playlist to stream from his phone. He set it on the nightstand and leaned against a pile of cushions propping his back into a comfortable position. Bakura spun away from Malik, hitched his thumb at the _Oh What Fun It Is To Ride_ message on his shirt, and glanced over his shoulder to see Malik’s reaction. Malik gave a single nod. His eyes lidded and he crooked his finger to summon Bakura closer.

But the music was too ridiculous for Bakura to simply obey Malik’s orders. Instead of crawling onto the bed, Bakura swayed his hips. He sank low, almost to the floor, and writhed up, rolling his abs in tune to some ridiculous, cheerful song in English that Bakura couldn’t understand. It may have been about world peace, a winter wonderland, or the birth of someone’s Lord and Savior, but Bakura didn’t care what the words said. He kept circling his body and grinning as Malik’s eyes glazed with raw desire.

Bakura hiked one foot onto the bed, slowly rolling his sock down his thigh and calf. He tossed the garment at Malik and continued dancing. Malik dropped the sock onto the floor. After another song, Bakura removed the second sock. For the third song he tossed his shorts behind him. Malik grabbed the lube and stroked himself. His hard shaft gleamed in the christmas lights they’d hung in the room. Bakura slipped out of his thong and straddled Malik’s legs—only as high as his thighs, and not his hips where Malik wanted Bakura.

Bakura reached beneath the pillows. He kissed Malik to distract him and pulled out something he’d nicked while shopping with Rishid and Isis. It looked like an enormous candy cane, but it had multiple speed and pulse settings. Bakura wrapped his lips around the toy, pretending to suck it off a moment as Malik watched. Bakura waited until Malik grunted with impatience before lubing it up. Selecting a medium, consistent vibration, he spun around and bent on his hands and knees so Malik had a full view of his asshole.

Bakura slipped the toy all the way in, sighing as it buzzed inside his body. He held the hooked end, eased in and out, and forced Malik to watch him prep himself. The sweater was already stuffy, and he began to sweat, but he kept it on for the theatrics of it. Adjusting to the toy, Bakura started to properly fuck himself with the vibrator. He rocked against it more than necessary, knowing Malik watched every hinge and jerk of his body. When he was panting and his cock was throbbing for want of being touched, Bakura pulled it out, tossed it aside, shifted back, and impaled himself on Malik’s cock.

“ _Ah_!” Malik gasped, straining to stay quiet as Bakura’s weight bore down and clenched around his cock.

“Time for my midknight Christmas ride.” Bakura turned over his shoulder and winked before raising high and sinking low.

 _“Damn_ ,” Malik hissed. He gripped Bakura’s hips and encouraged him to bounce.

Bakura sucked in a breath. Malik was twice as thick as the candy cane, and the difference made Bakura’s toes curl. His hair danced around his shoulders. Each time he took Malik all the way in Bakura grit his teeth because the pangs of euphoria were too good. They set up a rhythm, Bakura rolling up, back, down, and forward. Each time he sank low, Malik bucked, teasing Bakura’s prostate in the process. Bakura’s eyes slammed shut. The music, blinking lights, and the smell of cinnamon pines cones in a bowl on the nightstand, all swirled around Bakura, but he only half noticed. His world became the trill of electricity that sang through him each time he jerked his hips, and the lightning bolt that struck his prostate each time Malik shoved deeper.

“Bakura—Bakura—Bakura—Bakura—oh baby—” Malik thrusted faster than Bakura could bounce.

Bakura gripped Malik’s thighs for balance as Malik rammed into Bakura over and over. He growled as he came and the hands dropped away. Bakura slipped off Malik’s cock, turning so he could stroke himself as Malik watched, but Malik tugged Bakura to the mattress and rolled on top of him. Bakura giggled. If he could see himself—blushing, giggling, grinning—he would have sworn Rishid spiked the cocoa, but no amount of schnapps could ever make Bakura smile so hard that his cheeks rounded and darkened like polished apples...only Malik.

And Malik was cupping those round, burning cheeks and kissing Bakura senseless. His lips meandered to Bakura’s neck before curving along the natural trails of muscles in Bakura’s chest and abdomen. By the time he reached Bakura’s pelvis, Bakura was begging in quick, breathless whispers.

“Please, Malik please. Gods yes, Malik please.”

Then Malik lapped at Bakura’s cock. He sucked and sucked and sucked. Bakura shoved a pillow over his face, delirious with the need to scream Malik’s name. He pumped his hips while Malik bobbed his head. The pressure of Malik’s lips mixed with the heat and wetness of Malik’s mouth drove Bakura to the edge. HIs heartbeat thundered in his ears as he bit on the pillow to suppress his final moan before sinking into the bedding.

“You hot in that sweater?” Malik’s voice sifted through the pillow.

Bakura shoved the pillow aside, nodding as he gasped for cool air.

“I’ll help.” Malik pulled the sweater over Bakura’s shoulders.

“Thanks,” Bakura muttered, the high of orgasm swirling through his system.

“So…” Malik eased onto his side and hooked his arm over Bakura’s chest. “You think you being single is a lie?”

“Wasn’t it?” Bakura smirked. “Unless your beautiful story about defiling the tombs was a lie.”

“That was 100% true.”

“And I know you love motorcycles.” Bakura used his pinky finger to brush a lick of hair away from Malik’s face.

“I might love you a little more than motorcycles.”

“Damn, that’s practically a marriage proposal.” Bakura laughed. His chuckles faded and he watched Malik’s face. “I love you too.”

“I can’t believe we’re dating.” Malik caught Bakura’s earlier case of the giggles. He hid his face in Bakura’s side as he trembled with laughter. “I think I like Christmas after all.”

“Yeah, I guess I see why Ryou always liked—” Bakura jerked to a sitting position.

“What’s wrong?” Malik sat up with him.

“Nothing, but what time is it?” Bakura grabbed Malik’s phone. “It’s 2am.”

“Afraid Santa won’t arrive if we’re not asleep like good little boys?” Malik snorted laughter.

“You know I’m on a permanent naughty list.” Bakura winked. “But Ryou’s on the permanent nice list, and he told me that during his last real Christmas his mom was so excited that she woke him and his sister up at 3am to open up all their presents and eat french toast for breakfast.”

“Ah, I see, so what you’re saying is we have just enough time to shower and cook breakfast for everyone before busting into the guest room and waking them up.”

“You want to?” There was a twinkle in Bakura’s eyes, but it was more mischief than the Christmas spirit—although some of it _might_ have been the Christmas spirit.

“Yeah, let’s do it. Hopefully it’ll remind Ryou of his mom, and it’ll be a fun tradition to start with Isis and Rishid too.”

“Then let’s go.” Bakura pulled Malik out of bed so they could jump in the shower together.


	9. December 25, Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES I HAD TO POST THIS LAST BIT AT 3AM (my time) BECAUSE OF IMMERSION! 
> 
> Final little bit is quick, but I hope everyone likes it. And I'll be posting something different tonight ;)

Bakura bit his bottom lip to suppress the villainous laughter bubbling in his chest. He checked his phone, making sure the song would be ready to play with a press of his thumb. Bakura burst into the room, hit the lights, and started the clip on his phone. 

_We want to wake up to a big surprise!_

The song screech from his tiny phone speaker. Bakura twirled in the center of the room, singing along with the lyrics at the top of his voice. 

_A little black cat with a big blue bow_

_A funny little cat sitting in the snow_

_A silly little cat with a great big smile_

_Could we have one for just a little while?_

“Stupid fucker.” Mai buried herself beneath her pillow; Bakura sang louder. 

Isis shoved herself to sitting, her hair scattered around her face as if Malik’s dark side had somehow possessed her. She chucked her pillow at Bakura’s head. He dodged and belted out the final verse. 

“If you don’t turn off that music right now I will pay Seto Kaiba as many rare cards as it takes to have you murdered.” 

“Holy shit in a manger in Bethlehem, you _do not_ like being woken up, do you?” Bakura laughed at the murderous look on Isis’s face. He was used to Malik, so no glare Isis could give him would ever intimidate him. 

“Bakura it’s 3AM. Go to sleep.” 

“It’s 3AM,” Bakura repeated. “Which means it’s Christmas morning! I’m afraid Santa knows better than to come anywhere near the Thief King—I would totally steal that sleigh—but don’t worry, Malik and I bought enough presents to cover for him.” 

“Come back when it’s actually morning.” Mai growled through her pillow. 

“Can’t. Breakfast is ready!” Bakura grinned. 

“Breakfast?” Ryou perked up at the word. 

“Come and see, Malik worked really hard.” Bakura offered his hand to Ryou and helped him to his feet before glancing at Isis and Mai. “You too, Malik wants this to become a tradition.” 

The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg hit them when they entered the kitchen. Rishid already sat at the table with a mug in his hands and a huge smile on his face. Malik tilted the plate so Ryou could see the stack of french toast loaded with a mountain of whipped cream and drowning in the leftover sprinkles from Ryou’s cookie baking marathon. 

“Merry Christmas!” Malik offered Ryou the first plate. 

“Bakura, you remembered my story…” 

Ryou’s eyes lit up as they so often did when presented a pile of food with too much sugar, but this time the brightness melted into tears which rolled down his cheeks as he pressed a hand to his trembling lips. Ryou wept. 

“Ryou?” Malik set the plate onto the table and stepped forward. 

“Sweetie what’s wrong?” Isis held Ryou’s shoulders. “Bakura, what did you do? Forget involving Kaiba, I will shove you out the window myself—”

“No.” Ryou sniffled, using the sleeve of his pajamas to dry his face. “This is the nicest thing...anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Well, it doesn’t undo any of the un-nice things we’ve ever done, but we wanted you...to have happy memories of today again.” Malik shrugged. 

Ryou threw his arms around Malik, squeezing. He whispered a tear-choked _thankyou_ before pulling away and drying the last of his tears. Then he attacked Bakura with another hug. Afterward, Ryou sat and took the first bite of breakfast. It was the signal for everyone to swarm around the table with coffee, tea, and plates of french toast and tempeh bacon (real bacon for Ryou, Bakura, and Mai). 

“I told you you were a good friend.” Ryou licked whipped cream off of his lips. “Look at what a nice holiday you helped create?” 

“I didn’t do any of this to be nice. I was proving a point.” 

“And what point was that?” Rishid asked. 

“Found family is just as important as regular family, and the next time you get it in your heads that you need to do this or that for Malik’s own good, you better fucking listen to him if he wants to make changes like rescheduling visits to a better month or letting his friends hang out with him even during ‘family time.’” Bakura shoved half a slice of toast into his mouth, his expression challenging Isis to argue with him. 

Isis smiled. “Bakura, you are absolutely correct. Thank you for making such an important point so clear.” 

Bakura choked on his food. Malk slapped his back while Ryou ran to fetch a glass of water from the sink. 

“Am I hallucinating, or did Isis just agree with me?” 

“Christmas miracle.” Mai shrugged. 

“I fucking guess.” Bakura snorted, but he was grinning. 

“Breakfast was delicious, Malik. Thank you!” Ryou rubbed his stomach with a satisfied sigh. 

“Let’s worry about dishes later and open all the presents.” Malik grabbed Bakura by the hair and dragged him to the living room. 

Rishid was the official present sorter, passing everything to the correct person. The happiest person in the group was probably Blinky. She’d hidden the night before, unfamiliar with Mai and Ryou, but all the crinkling of Christmas wrappers was too alluring for her and she soon found herself lost in a mountain of ribbons which she gleefully attacked. 

“Hey Isis.” Mai poked Isis’s arm as Isis held a bag open to collect some of the growing piles of trash. 

“Yes?”

“Look.” Mai pointed above them; they were standing beneath a sprig of mistletoe. 

“Oh.” Isis giggled. “All right.” 

Mai gave Isis a playful kiss on the cheek, but Isis tangled her fingers into Mai’s tresses and pulled their mouths together for a real kiss. 

Bakura whistled, the others clapped. Mai flipped them the finger. She couldn’t say anything snarky because her mouth was still quite busy. 

“We should take a turn next, eh Malik?” Bakura nudged Malik with his elbow. 

“I don’t need mistletoe to kiss you.” 

Malik dipped Bakura low. Bakura’s hair scattered in the air as Malik sealed their lips. The white strands fell around them like a scene in a snowglobe. 


End file.
